BOUGHT  FROM 
MULHERN  DONATION 


B  L  A  N  I  D. 


B  L  A  N  I  D. 


BY 


ROBERT     D.    JOYCE, 


AUTHOR    OF    "  DKIRDRE." 


BOSTON: 

ROBERTS     BROTHERS. 
1879. 


Copyright,  1879, 
BY  ROBERTS  BROTHERS. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS  i 
Jons  WILSON  AND  SON.  CAMBRIDGE. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

THE  FLOWER  FEAST  IN  MANA 13 

THE  DESPAIR  OF  CUHULLIN 51 

THE  TAKING  OF  MANA 105 

THE  TEARS  OF  BLANID 143 

THE  HUNTING  OF  THE  WOLF  OF  BIERNA    ....  164 

THE  MEETING  OF  THE  LOVERS 203 

THE  SLAYING  OF  CUROI  AND  THE  REVENGE  OF  HIS 

MINSTREL 226 


933451 


ARGUMENT. 


"OLANID  (THE  BLOSSOM-BRIGHT),  daughter  of  the 
King  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  is  sought  in  marriage  by 
the  princes  .of  Western  Europe.  She  refuses  them  all. 
At  length  she  falls  in  love  with  Cuhullin,  the  son  of  her 
father's  most  powerful  enemy.  The  princes  form  a  league 
to  win  her,  and  gathering  their  fleets,  sail  to  Dun  Dalgan, 
where  they  elect  Cuhullin  leader  of  the  expedition.  They 
besiege  and  sack  the  stronghold  of  Mana.  At  the  dis 
tribution  of  the  spoils,  Blanid,  by  a  stratagem,  is  won  and 
taken  away  by  Curoi,  prince  of  South  Munster.  Cuhullin 
pursues  Curoi,  and  overtakes  him  at  the  foot  of  the 
Mountains  of  Blama,  where  they  fight  for  the  possession 
of  Blanid.  Cuhullin  is  vanquished,  and  Curoi  bears 
Blanid  away  in  triumph  to  the  south.  After  some  time 
the  lovers  meet  again,  and  with  the  help  of  Blanid's 


8  ARGUMENT. 


foster-mother  make  a  plot  for  the  slaying  of  Curoi,  which 
is  done  on  the  night  of  the  Feast  of  Samhain,  and  Blanid 
is  borne  away  to  Eman  by  Cuhullin.  Curoi's  minstrel 
follows  them,  and  at  the  hunting  feast  of  Rincan-Beara 
dashes  down  his  harp,  seizes  Blanid,  and  throws  himself 
with  her  over  the  verge  of  the  great  rock  into  the  sea 
beneath,  where  they  are  lost  for  ever. 


THO  U,  to  come,  though  yet  perchance  unborn, 

My  country's  Poet,  prince  of  bards,  sublime 
'Mongst  those  -who  in  the  Future's  gleaming  morn 
Will  make  great  music,  in  thy  manhood > prime 
And  day  of  fame  remember  me,  and  climb 
My  Hill  of  Rest,  and  take  thy  musing  way 

Unto  the  place  of  tombs,  and  with  sweet  rhyme 
Stand  thou  beside  my  headstone  lone  and  gray, 
And  strike  thy  sounding  harp  and  sing  no  little  lay ! 

For  lam  of  the  race  of  those  longsyne 

The  makers  of  heroic  minstrelsy, 
Though  oft  in  youth,  caught  in  his  silken  twine, 

I  sang  of  Love,  to  lay  and  melody ^ 

Made  by  the  ancient  bards  of  high  degree, 
Or  rustic  singers  of  the  lowly  cot, 

And  many  a  thorny  path  I've  cleared  for  thee, 
And  sowed  some  seeds  in  many  a  hidden  spot 
That  bloom  a  little  now  where  flowers  of  song  were 
not  I 


I0  PROEM. 


Though  many  a  Jldd  I've  searched  of  foreign  lore 

And  found  great  themes  for  song,  yet  ne'er  would  I 
Seek  Greece,  or  Araby,  or  Persia's  shore 

Por  heroes  and  the  deeds  of  days  gone  by  ; 

To  my  own  native  land  my  heart  would  fly, 
Howc'cr  my  fancy  wandered,  and  I  gave 

My  thoughts  to  her  and  to  the  heroes  high 
She  nursed  in  ages  gone,  and  strove  to  save 
Some  memory  of  their  deeds  from  dark   oblivious 
wave  ! 


And  not  for  gold  I  sang,  nor  foolish  greed 

With  easy  steps  to  reach  Fame's  hallowed  ground  j 

For  love  of  Song  I  piped  my  sylvan  reed, 
And  sometimes  too  essayed  a  bolder  sound 
To  wake  men's  souls  to  nobleness,  and  found 

Each  effort  to  my  heart  new  guerdons  bring, 

And  though  few  laurels  wrcathl  my  temples  round, 

Jlfy  task  is  wrought  in  stirring  even  the  string 

Of  the  bright  harp  that  yet  beneath  thy  touch  shall 
ring  I 


PROEM.  1 1 


In  this  some  bloom  of  Fancy  may'st  thoufind:  — 
Heroes  and  heroines  from  the  dusky  haze 

Of  Eld  I've  catted,  and  limned  them,  heart  and  mind, 
As  best  I  could,  in  all  their  thoughts  and  ways 
Of  love  and  war;  and  if  it  win  thy  praise 

And  thy  approving  smile,  I  ask  no  more 

Than  this,  to  add  one  green  leaf  to  the  bays 

In  learning  and  in  song  my  country  wore 
When  all  the  world  was  dark,  save  her,  in  days  of 
yore  ! 


BLANID. 


THE   FLOWER   FEAST   IN   MANA. 

TN  Mana  of  the  Sea  there  reigned  a  king 
Far  famed  for  valor  and  for  treasures  rare 

Of  gems  and  gold  and  many  a  precious  thing 
Bright  as  the  stars  in  frosty  midnight  air  ; 

One  daughter  dear  he  had,  within  the  ring 
Of  the  round  world  the  fairest  of  the  fair, 

And  through  the  lands  the  loud-tongued  wind  of 
fame 

Blew  far  and  near  the  bloom-bright  Blanid's  name. 


I4  BLANID. 


As  in  some  regal  garden  a  young  rose 

Buds    into    bloom    'neath    fostering    sun    and 
0 . .     nvind, 

"And  each  .successive  day  new  beauty  shows 
•  ."*:"•••    :(;>He'a*f  or  stem  beyond  its  lovely  kind, 

Till  in  the  summer's  midst  it  smiles  and  glows 

Fairest  of  all  with  pearly  dews  refined, 
So  grew  that  lady  peerless,  pure  and  good, 
To  the  first  morn  of  perfect  womanhood. 


And  many  a  lay  the  wandering  minstrels  made 
To  the  bright  beauty  of  that  Flower  of  flowers, 

From  Eman's  hall  and  Tara's  laurel  shade 
To  Gwydilod  and  high  Tintagel's  bowers ;  — 

From  Gallia's  shores  by  ocean  broad  embayed, 
To     the     bleak     isles     where     misty     Coolin 
towers, 

Her  praises  spread  from  eager  land  to  land, 

By  the  strong  wind  of  fame  for  ever  fanned. 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST  IN  MANA.          15 

And  men  of  high  renown,  the  bold  and  brave, 
Who  ne'er  before  felt  love  illume  their  breasts, 

Strove  for  the  right  with  splintering  lance  and  glaive 
To  wear  her  joyful  colors  on  their  crests  ; 

Poet  and  mighty  prince  and  lord  and  slave 

Spoke  of  her,  great  kings  sought  her  hand,  and 
quests 

By  knights  forlorn  for  her  were  underta'en 

To  take  her  from  her  sire,  but  all  in  vain. 

And  though  a  quest  of  danger  and  of  dread, 

Thick  thronged  the  knights  on  it,  as  summer 
bees 

Swarm  round  a  hive  in  thousands  ;  many  a  head 
Grinned  ghastly  o'er  her  father's  gate  of  these 

Misguided  champions  valorous,  fancy-led, 
Who  to  Green  Mana  came  across  the  seas, 

Feeding  their  hearts  with  vain  hopes  all  the  while 

To  win  that  far-famed  maid  by  force  or  guile ! 


BLANID. 


Yet  on  those  days  when  in  his  kingly  hall 

Her  father  held  high  court,  and  strangers  came 

From  the  earth's  farthest  ridge  remote,  and  all 
Sunned  themselves  in   the   smiles  of   that  fair 
dame, 

On  prince  and  knight  and  squire,  on  great  and  small, 
Her  glorious  eyes  beamed  unimpassioned  flame, 

As  though  her  maiden  heart  could  ne'er  respond 

To  the  soft  touch  of  love's  enchanted  wand. 

For,  as  the  crystal  well  whose  bosom  sheen 
Sparkled  within  her  garden  of  delight, 

And  mirrored  all  the  flowers  and  leaves  of  green 
And    sun    by  day    and    moon    and    stars    by 
night, 

But  kept  no  image  there,  her  heart  serene 
Took  all  impressions,  sorrowful  or  bright, 

With  care  unclouded  and  with  love  unwarm, 

And  treasured  in  its  depths  no  hallowed  form. 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST   IN  MANA.          17 

But  every  heart  hath  its  appointed  hour 
To  wake  to  love's  immortal  joy  or  pain, 

To  feel  through  every  nerve  the  tyrant's  power, 
And  weep  or  laugh  with    gladness  'neath   his 
reign. 

It  chanced  upon  a  day  to  Blanid's  bower 
Uprode  her  sire  with  all  his  sylvan  train, 

And  called  her  forth,  with  hounds  and  huntsmen  bold 

To  chase  the  wild  deer  in  the  summer  wold. 

Fair  as  the  moon  and  her  attendant  throng 
Of  glittering  stars  in  heaven's  blue  firmament, 

To  sounds  of  huntsman's  horn  and  minstrel's  song 
With  her  fair  maids  around  her  forth  she  went : 

Then  spread  the  many-voiced  chase  along 

The  dales,  the  woods,  the  wind-waved  mountain 
bent, 

Like  a  gay  streamer  of  the  northern  sky, 

Sparkling  and  shifting  till  the  noon  drew  nigh. 


BLANID. 


Then  reined  she  up  her  steed  where  rose  the  tune 
Of  merry  birds  half  mad  with  summer  glee, 

In  a  lone  hollow  that  with  answering  croon 

Of  murmuring  leaves  and  winds  sang  joyously : 

Below  her  in  the  lake  the  sky  of  noon 

Was  mirrored,  and  beside  her  many  a  tree 

Gleamed  bright  with  fragrant  blooms,  and  singing 
rills 

Shot  down  in  music  from  the  shadowy  hills. 

Behind  her,  grim  to  heaven  a  moorland  faced, 
Home  of  great  boars,  and  huge  primeval  kine 

Whose   savage    bulls'  loud    bellowing    shook    the 

waste 
At  blink  of  early,  morn  or  day's  decline : 

Up  from  its  midst,  with  wizard  woods  embraced 
Of  giant  oak  and  strong  sky-towering  pine, 

A  dark  hill  with  a  bleached  and  barren  skull 

Towered  o'er  that  region  weird  and  wonderful. 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST  IN  MANA.         19 

Now,  from  beneath  that  hill,  upon  the  breeze 
Sudden  the  clamor  rose  of  hounds  and  horn, 

Then  came  a  bellowing  sound  that  shook  the  trees, 
As  shakes  a  summer  gust  the  shivering  corn. 

Trembling  young  Blanid  looks  ;  anon  she  sees, 
With  earth-consuming  strength  of  fury  born, 

A    mighty   bull    come    thundering    through    the 
brakes, 

Showering  the  moss  behind  in  skyward  flakes  ! 

Onward  he  came  with  speed  like  the  wild  wrack 
Of  clouds  pursued  by  tempests  in  their  ire, 

White  foam-flakes  on  his  brindled  sides  and  back, 
Flames  darting  from  his  burning  eyeballs  dire, 

Two  fierce  hounds  and  a  bold  knight  on  his  track,  — 
A  knight  whose  javelin  flashed  like  azure  fire, 

Whose  harness  gleamed,  whose  horse  outstripped 
the  blast 

In  Barna's  wood,  spurring  behind  him  fast ! 


20  BLAN1D. 


Trembling  bright  Blanid  sat,  without  essay 
From  that  fell  spot  of  peril  forth  to  go, 

As  one  who  from  the  vale,  when  suns  of  May 
Put  forth  their  strength  on  Pyrenean  snow, 

Sees  o'er  him  th'  avalanche  its  power  display, 
And,   dazed   with   danger,   waits   for  death  be 
low, 

Unknowing  what  to  do,  so  sat  the  maid 

On  her  gay  palfrey  in  that  hollow  glade ! 

On  came  the  wrathful  bull  with  tenfold  wrath 
At  sight  of  her  rich  robe  of  many  dyes, 

Fast  spurred  the  noble  knight  beside  his  path, 
With  well-poised  form  and  valor-sparkling  eyes ; 

In  his  right  hand  the  javelin  as  a  lath 
Quivers,  then  like  a  lightning  flash  it  flies 

Forward  shrill  hissing,  riving  its  red  way 

Deep    through    the    great    heart    of    its    giant 
prey! 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST  IN  MANA.          2I 

As  when  an  earthquake  shakes  the  solid  ground 
From  caverns  deep  where  fires  infernal  burn, 

From  its  high  station  on  some  lofty  mound 
A  huge  rock  falls  and  shakes  the  earth  in  turn, 

The  forest  trembles  to  its  utmost  bound, 

Back   the   lake's   gorge   the  waters   choke   and 
churn,  — 

So  fell  that  mighty  bull  beside  the  shore 

.With  deafening  shock  and  loud  rebellowed  roar. 

And  as  some  lovely  flower  that  all  day  long 
Laughing  in  air  and  sun  the  hours  did  pass, 

Torn   from   its   bed    the    green    mound's    blooms 

among, 
Now  helpless  withers  by  the  fallen  mass, 

So  Blanid,  from  her  frightened  palfrey  flung 
Lies  still  upon  the  blossom-jewelled  grass, 

No  little  page  anigh,  or  tearful  maid, 

With  pitying  hands  to  raise  her  lovely  head. 


22  BLANID. 


But  he  was  there,  that  hunter  beautiful, 

Cuhullin,  Eman's  noblest  Red  Branch  Knight ; 

He  raised  her  gently  up,  and  in  the  lull 

Of  her  short  swoon  kissed  face  and  forehead  bright, 

Kissed  golden  hair  and  eyes  no  longer  dull, 

For  love's  first  touch  brought  back  their  sweetest 
light, 

And  half-shed  tears  and  smiles,  and  blushes  too 

Unto  her  cheeks  like  the  red  rose's  hue. 

He  looked  on  her  and  found  her  radiant  face 
Beautiful  beyond  all  his  heart  could  dream, 

She  looked  on  him  with  sweet  and  modest  grace, 
And  blushed  and  looked  once  more.     The  love 
supreme 

That  years  of  joy  nor  misery,  time  nor  place, 
Could  change,  awoke  with  its  immortal  gleam, 

And  stirred  each  young  heart  to  its  inmost  nook, 

And  lightened  in  each  eye  and  smile  and  look. 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST  IN   MANA.          23 

Of  danger  or  of  time  they  take  no  heed 

Till  round  the  lake  sweet  echoes  roll  and  run, 

And  up  the  forest  path  at  topmost  speed 

Come  the  gay  courtiers  spurring  one  by  one  : 

Fondly  he  kissed  her,  light  sprang  on  his  steed 
And  through  the  wildwood  vanished  ;  wind  and 
sun 

Played  as  he  went  upon  his  face  and  hair, 

Making  strange  gleams  of  wondrous  glory  there. 

Then  sat  she  brooding  for  a  little  time 

Amidst  the  grass  and  fragrant  blossoms  gay 

Of  the  sweet  place  :  the  merry  wild-birds'  chime 
She  heard  not,  heeded  not  the  flowers'  display 

Of  beauty  all  around  :  then  did  she  climb 
Into  her  golden  selle,  and  rode  away 

Silent  and  very  glad,  till  with  surprise 

Her    maid    saw    love's    first    brightness    in    her 
eyes. 


BLANID. 


And  he  :  —  across  the  stream  and  through  the  wood 
With  lightsome  heart  he  went,  and  'neath  the  shade 

Sped  downward  hopefully,  till,  where  the  flood, 
Enlarged  by  many  streamlets,  tumbling  made 

Down  a  steep  precipice  in  merry  mood 

Its  path  of  silver  foam,  his  course  he  stayed 

Nigh  the  cliff's  foot,  beneath  an  oak  whose  head 

O'er  flowers  innumerous  and  sweet  grasses  spread. 

For  in  the  midst  of  a  small  mead  it  grew, 

Where    the   bright   Goddess,    Aine,    Queen    of 
Flowers, 

Delighted  with  its  pleasures,  thither  drew 

Sweet  winds,  warm  beams  and  soft,  life-giving 

showers :  — 

* 

There  all  the  lovely  blooms  that  ever  knew 

The  airs  of  springtide  or  the  summer  hours 
Showed  themselves  to  the  butterflies  and  bees, 
And  glad  birds  singing  o'er  them  in  the  trees. 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST  IN   MAN  A.          2$ 

Around  the  fragrant  place  high  cliffs  arose 
Save  where  the  path  led  downward  by  the  fall 

Of   the  sweet  murmuring   stream,  and  where   in 

throes 
Of  elfin  laughter  o'er  a  mossy  wall 

Of  rock^it  left  the  mead  to  its  repose, 

Far  wandering  seaward  through  the  forest  tall, 

Where  ringdoves  cooed  to  it  and  larks  sang  o'er, 

And  many  a  bank  of  foxglove  decked  its  shore. 

Here  while  his  horse  grazed  on  the  grassy  bank, 
And    while    his    hounds    slept    by  him,    he    lay 
down 

On  the  fresh-smelling  sward  and  sweetly  drank 
The  wine  of  thought,  until  the  far-off  crown 

Of  the  old  hill  grew  dim  :  then  soft  he  sank 
Into  deep  sleep,  and  love  and  its  renown 

Forsook  him  not  even  then,  for  in  his  dreams 

He  walked  alone  anigh  two  singing  streams. 


26  BLANID. 


And  on  the  level  sward  that  lay  between 

These  warbling  waters  clear,  bright  garlanded 

With  many-scented  blooms,  the  gentle  Queen 
Of    Flowers    and   Summer,  Aine,  towards    him 
led 

Her  handmaids  in  their  flowing  kirtles  green, 
A  coronal  of  lilies  on  each  head : 

And  as  she  drew  anigh  with  heavenly  grace, 

Fair  Blanid's  form  she  wore  .and  Blanid's  face ! 

Unto  a  bank  where  many  violets  grew 

She  came  and  stood,  while  one  beside  her  played 
Upon  a  golden  lute,  and  ever  drew 

Sweet    strains    from    it,    and    sang,    "  Afraid  ! 

afraid 
Of  love  am  I  !  —  to  yearn  as  lovers  do, 

To  laugh  and  weep  by  turns,  to  stand  dismayed 
At  every  cloud,  to  sigh  for  naught,  to  prove 
All  joy  and  bitterness,  —  and  yet  I  love!" 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST  IN   MANA.          27 

And  as  she  sang  they  moved,  and  back  again 
O'er    the   fresh    blossoms   passed,    yet    to    his 
ear, 

As  they  moved  farther  on,  the  handmaid's  strain 
Floated  along  the  meadow,  and  more  clear, 

More  piercing  still  with  passion's  bliss  and  pain 
It  grew  and  grew,  until  a  thrill  of  fear 

Shot  through  him  at  the  marvel,  and  he  woke 

Nigh  the  dark  shadow  of  the  ancient  oak. 

His  horse  was  grazing  near,  his  hounds  at  rest, 
Yet   scarce   a.  spear-length   from    him,   on    the 
ground, 

Sat  a  bright  man  in  minstrel's  colors  drest, 
Playing  upon  a  harp  whose  lovely  sound 

Filled  all  the  place  :  —  upon  his  stalwart  breast 
A  black  beard  flowed,  and  ivy  leaves  enwound 

His  broad  brows,  while,  beneath,  two  dark  eyes  shone 

And  a  fair  face  unbrowned  by  wind  and  sun. 


28  BLAN1D. 


Upstood  the  knight,  but  not  with  hand  on  hilt, 
For    still    the    minstrel    stirred    not,    and    he 
said,  — 

"  O  rich-robed  stranger,  tell  me  what  thou  wilt 
Of  thine  own  mortal  origin,  but  bred 

With  gods  thou  wert,  or  in  some  palace  built 
By  the  Sid  People,  for  methinks  I  tread 

In  heaven  while  thou  art  playing !     Who  art  thou, 

Man  of  the  pleasant  face  and  wreathed  brow  ? " 

Upstood  the  minstrel  glittering  in  the  moon 

That  now  had  risen  and  quenched  the  star  which 
sees 

Each  day's  red  flame  expire,  —  "A  boon !  a  boon 
I  ask  of  thee,  O  Knight !     The  melodies 

That  my  harp  uttered  will  delight  thee  soon 
If  thou  wilt  follow  me :  beyond  those  trees 

A  cave  there  is  where  we  can  shelter  find 

From  the  damp  night  dews  and  the  chilly  wind. 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST   IN   MAN  A. 


29 


Then  call  thy  horse  and  hounds  and  follow  me :  — 
Men  name  me  Ferkertne,  the  lord  of  song, 

And  Curoi's  bard,  from  where  Tonn  Cleena's  sea 
Buffets  flat  Beramain  with  billow  strong. 

Then  come !      I  've  spread  the  warm  cave's  floor 

for  thee 
With  moss  and  blooming  heather,  and  the  throng 

Of  fancies  fresh  now  flitting  through  my  brain 

I  '11  sing  to  thee  to-night,  if  thou  art  fain  ! " 

At  the  cave's  mouth  they  sat  where  clear  as  day 
'Tween  two  high   pines    the   silvery  moonlight 
fell, 

And  with  blithe  music  passed  the  hours  away, 
And  converse,  and  Ferkertne  'gan  to  tell 

How  he  had  sailed  across  the  salt  sea  spray 
To  look  on  Blanid's  face,  and  in  the  well 

Of  Poesy  to  bathe  his  soul,  and  sing 

Songs  of  her  beauty  to  his  lord  and  king. 


30  BLANID. 


11  But  now,"  he  said,  "  the  moon  soars  o'er  the  pine 
That    crowns    the    eastern   crag,   and   we   will 
press 

Our  heathery  couch  and  let  the  Night  divine 
Cover  us  with  her  sweet  forgetfulness. 

To-morrow  morn  the  Beltane  sun  will  shine 
And  we  will  seek  strong  Mana's  hold  and  bless 

Our  souls  with  sight  of  her  fair  face,  and  see 

Their  Feast  of  Flowers  and  all  their  pageantry." 

The  morn  rose  fair  and  strong  Cuhullin  woke, 

Placed  food  for  horse  and  hounds,  and  in  the 

fe 

cave 
Left  them,  and  with  the  minstrel  from  the  Oak 

And  Mead  departed  upward  by  the  wave 
Of  the  wild  stream,  and  soon  the  woodland  folk 

On  paths  they  met  trolling  a  merry  stave 
As  they  went  on,  and,  further,  on  the  plains 
Stout  husbandmen  in  flower-bedizened  wains. 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST   IN   MANA.          3! 

And  further  still,  on  the  broad  royal  way 

The  crowds  increased,  as,  when  the  rains  pour 
down 

From  far  Sleemis  to  Crotta's  mountains  gray, 
Allo  and  Dallo,  and  the  waters  brown 

Of  Clyda,  and  strong  Mulla  white  with  spray, 
And  Funcheon  tumbling  fast  by  rock  and  town, 

Swell  the  Blackwater's  tide,  so  from  each  glen, 

Hamlet  and  hold  poured  crowds  of  laughing  men, 

Women  and  children  on  the  royal  road 

That  Beltane  morn,  yet,  nathless  some  were  there 

Who  groaned  in  secret  'neath  pale  sorrow's  load, 
Remorse's  sting,  or  cloud  of  black  despair ; 

For  life's  fair  holidays,  howe'er  bestowed, 
Soften  not  grief  for  all,  nor  brighten  care  ; 

Yet  on  they  went,  life's  pearls,  life's  heavy  clods, 

The  hearts  that  blessed  and  those  that  cursed  the 
Gods! 


32  BLANID. 


Anigh  strong  Mana's  hold,  in  raiment  new 
Of  summer  bloom  a  hollow  vale  spread  out 

Its  meadowy  bosom  to  the  sun  and  dew, 
Encircled  by  a  sacred  wood  where,  stout 

'Gainst  time  and  change,  the  towering  pine-trees 

grew, 
And  strong  oaks  bade  defiance  to  the  shout 

Of  wintry  storms,  and  ash  and  beeches  green 

Shadowed  the  copse  where  wild  things  played  un 
seen. 

And  on  the  midmost  sward,  like  giant  thrones, 
Reared  by  primordial  hands,  austere  and  grim, 

Spread  the  great  circle  of  Druidic  stones, 

High  precinct  of  the  Gods,  wherefrom  the  hymn 

Of  the  king's  priests  uprolled  in  varied  tones 
That  nowmade  bright  by  turns,and  nowmade  dim, 

The  eyes  of  the  vast  concourse  all  around 

The  sacred  wood-skirts  and  the  sloping  ground. 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST   IN   MAN  A.          33 

A  space  beyond  the  circle's  open  gate, 

Arched  o'er   the  flower-strewn  way  stood    two 

oak-trees, 
Whose  trunks,  tall  pillars,  well  had  borne  the  weight 

Of  all  their  leafy  wealth  long  centuries  : 
Now  each  towered  smiling  grandly  on  his  mate, 

Bedecked  with  many  garlands,  while  the  breeze 
Shook  their  broad  branches  with  a  voiceful  quiver, 
Like  the  light  murmuring  of  some  gladsome  river. 

Beyond  the  oaks,  a  good  spear-cast  across, 
Lay  piled  a  circle  of  dry  wood  and  fern 

And  withered  larch-boughs  and  thyme-spiced  moss 
And  sea-grass  from  the  home  of  swan  and  tern, 

And  aromatic  pine  and  last  year's  floss 

Of  the  white  marsh  flax,  and  all  flowers  that  learn 

Of   God   to  scent  earth's  woods,  from  th'  inward 
pyre 

Waiting  the  high  priest  and  the  sacred  fire. 


34  BLANID. 


And  nigh  the  roadway,  on  a  dais  raised 

High  o'er  the  perfumed  meadow,  sat  the  King 

Upon  a  golden  seat,  and  all  amazed 

With  love  and  wonder,  'mid  a  blooming  ring 

Of  bright-clad  maidens  in  a  robe  that  blazed 
With  gems,  Cuhullin  saw  fair  Blanid  fling 

More  garlands  toward  the  oak-trees,  singing  sweet 

To  the  light  cadence  of  the  moving  feet. 

And  more  amazed  he  saw  the  minstrel  go 

To  the  young  maids,  and  with  his  harp-strings 
bare 

Wake  magic  sounds  thereon,  until  more  slow 
The  dancing  feet  moved,  and  their  joyous  air 

He  matched  with  kindred  music  :  soft  and  low 
It  warbled  first,  till  with  the  dancers  fair 

He  moved  toward  the  green  trees,  then  loud  it  rang 

With   his   sweet  voice  and   theirs,   and   thus   he 
sang :  — 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST   IN  MAN  A.          35 

"  Come  hither  with  song  and  with  glances  bright : 

Sing  to  the  Glory  who  walks  his  way 
For  ever  unchanged  o'er  the  arching  height, 
The  Helper,  the  Maker  of  man's  delight, 

The  Father  of  Morning,  whose  piercing  ray 

Illumes  the  shores  where  the  darkness  lay  !  — 
Sing  to  the  Softener  of  grief,  the  Sower, 

The  Ripener,  the  Reaper,  the  Lord  of  day, 
The  Slayer  of  death  and  the  Life-bestower  ! 

"  When  Light  withdrew  from  the  Darkness  old, 

And  the  fresh  blue  heavens  and  the  crystal  sea 
Laughed  in  the  primal  Morning's  gold, 
Earth's  rocky  wastes  lay  stark  and  cold 

Without  voice  of  zephyr  or  streamlet's  glee. 

Then  the  golden  Sun  smote  the  barren  lea 
And  the  shores  and  the  hills  and  the  plains  and  passes, 

And  the  birthday  was  of  the  shrub  and  tree, 
Of  the  painted  flowers  and  the  fragrant  grasses. 


36  BLANID. 


"  The  clouds  arose  from  the  ocean's  breast 
And  fell  on  the  deserts  in  silver  showers, 

The  streams  awoke  in  their  sweet  unrest, 

And  the  new-born  winds  at  the  sun's  behest 
Sang  in  the  leaves  of  the  springing  bowers, 
Till  the  waste,  transformed,  was  a  world  of  flowers, 

Where  the  glory  of  light  from  the  dews  would  glisten, 
And  they  whispered  sweet  in  the  windy  hours 

With  no  eyes  to  see  them,  no  ears  to  listen. 

"  Then  the  Maker  of  Gods,  who  ruled  the  span 

Of  the  starry  kingdoms,  the  sun,  the  earth, 
To  the  uttermost  spaces  ere  time  began, 
Of  the  red  clay  wrought  him  the  primal  Man, 

Of  the  bright  flowers  fashioned  the  woman's  birth ; 

For  the  joy  of  their  bodies  and  hours  of  mirth 
He  gave  them  the  grape  and  the  wine  to  follow, 

The  game  of  the  forest,  the  fish  of  the  firth, 
And  the  corn  and  the  fruit  of  the  plain  and  hollow. 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST  IN  MANA.          37 

"  But  best  for  them  and  their  soul's  delight, 

The  flower-web  of  glory  round  earth  he  spun, 

The  purple  of  Heather,  the  Mead-blooms  bright, 

The  May  and  the  delicate  Woodbine's  white, 
The  Daisy  fresji,  and  the  darling  One, 
The  Hyacinth  young  j  and  a  splendor  shone 

From  their  bloom  in  meadow  and  wood-glade  stilly, 
And  the  garden  glowed  in  the  golden  Sun 

With  the  Pink  and  the  Rose  and  the  saffron  Lily. 

"  Come  hither,  come  hither,  with  garlands  meet 

'For  Youth's  bright  brow  and  for  Age's  head, 
Of  the  fairest  flowers  that  the  mornings  greet 
With  perfumed  breath  and  with  kisses  sweet 

In  glen  and  meadow  and  garden  bed  ; 

For  Summer  is  come  and  the  Winter  's  sped 
From  moor  and  mountain,  from  field  and  forest, 

And  the  birds  in  the  greenwood  woo  and  wed, 
And  the  blossoms  laugh  where  the  frosts  lay  hoarest  ! 


38  BLANID. 


11  Come  hither,  come  hither,  our  song  to  weave 
Of  joy  where  the  old  Oaks  branching  rise  ! 

Under  their  shadows  let  no  heart  grieve, 

Let  love  meet  love  and  its  truth  believe, 

And  laugh  meet  laughter  !  —  while  sunny  skies 
Brighten  the  sward  and  the  sweet  hour  flics,  — 

From  fell  and  forest,  by  spring  and  river, 

From  brake  and  bank  where  the  dewdrop  lies. 

Gather  the  garlands  and  praise  the  Giver  !  " 

Now  when  the  song  was  ended  and  the  dance, 
And  gracefully  again  the  maids  drew  nigh 

Where  the  high  dais  stood,  Cuhullin's  glance 
Fell  on  the  King  and  marked  the  old  man's  eye 

Bent  on  him  with  a  furtive  look  askance, 

Bitter,  that  seemed  to  say,  "  In  days  gone  by 

Thy  father's   blood   coursed   through  #a   foeman's 
heart, 

If  I  can  rightly  guess  whose  son  thou  art ! " 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST  IN  MANA.          39 

But  now  in  th'  inner  circle  a  light  smoke 

Curled  upward  o'er  the  pyre,  as  though  it  came 

From  'tween  the  high  priest's  hands,  and  as  he 

spoke 
With  face  upturned  to  heaven  the  Sun  God's  name, 

Moving  his  outspread  palms  the  while,  there  broke 
From  the  sweet  perfumed  wood  a  golden  flame 

Whereat  a  torch  he  lit,  and,  turning,  made 

His  slow  way  outward  to  the  oak-trees'  shade. 

Thence  with  straight-gazing  eyes  he  passed  the 
King, 

And  at  the  East  side  with  loud  voice  of  song 
Touched  the  obedient  wood  of  th'  outward  ring, 

And  by  the  South  and  West  he  went  along 
Unto  the  Northern  boundary  ;  with  a  spring 

Up  to  the  heavens  the  flame  flew  fresh  and  strong 
Where'er  he  touched,  then  turned  he,  while  a  cry 
Of  gladness  from  the  concourse  filled  the  sky. 


40 


BLANID. 


And  as  he  sought  again  the  sacred  place, 

Swift  runners  rushed  with  ready  torch  in  hand, 
Caught  the  fresh  flame,  and  with  light  feet,  whose 

trace 
The  young  grass  felt  not,  cut  the  breeze  that 

fanned 

Each  torch,  as  swept  they  in  their  headlong  race 
East,  West,  North,  South,  until  throughout  the 

land, 

From  sea  to  seaboard,  each  extinguished  hearth 
Laughed  in  the  gladness  of  the  new  fire's  birth. 

Now  in  the  gay  confusion  and  the  swaying 
Of  the  crowd  to  and  fro,  the  minstrel  stood 

By  the  tall  Knight.     "  O  comrade,  thou  art  playing 
A  game,"  he  said,  "  will  spill  thy  valiant  blood  ! 

Then  get  thee  hence  !     No  more,  no  more  delaying  ! 
I've  seen  the  King's  brow  bent  in  treach'rousmood, 

I  've  heard  him  speak  !     O  heed  the  minstrel's  fears ! 

Look  yonder,  and  behold  that  hedge  of  spears  ! " 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST   IN  MAN  A.          41 

He  started  not :  he  bent  his  kindly  eye 

Upon  the  bright-robed  minstrel,  as  he  spoke : 

"  Fear  not  for  me,  O  friend  !     What  looks  awry 
Will  soon  seem  straight;  and  may  Crom's  light 
ning-stroke 

Fall  on  my  head  when  with  base  soul  I  fly 
The  frown  of  danger,  for  the  golden  yoke 

Of  love  is  linked  around  me,  and  I  fear 

Nor  doom,  nor  death,  while  my  beloved  is  near ! 

"  My  father  loved  her  mother  and  made  war 
On  Mana's  king,  whence  mortal  hatred  sprung, 

And  I  was  born  beneath  the  selfsame  star, 

And    I    must   love   the   daughter,    and    they  've 
sung, 

High  bard  and  minstrel,  that  't  is  better  far 

To  love  and  do  great  deeds  when  one  is  young: 

And  whatsoever  weird  is  on  me  set 

I  '11  bear  it  for  her  sake  without  regret !  " 


42  BLANID. 


"  Look  to  thy  neck  then,  and  beware  the  axe," 
The   minstrel    said,  "  for   the  high    King   hath 
spoken 

Thy  doom  ere  this,  and  Vengeance  never  lacks 
Her  bitter  food,  in  breasts  of  kings  awoken ; 

With  eager  wings  she  flies  upon  thy  tracks 
Pursuing  thee,  and  I  believe  no  token 

Of  safety,  but  to  see  thee  sit  thy  steed 

Under  the  oak-tree  in  yon  forest  mead." 

Then  answered  strong  Cuhullin,  "  I  am  he 

To    whom    fate    gave    two    choices,    and    who 
said, 

'  Better  to  live  a  short  life  gloriously 
And  as  a  hero  die,  than,  living-dead, 

An  old  man  with  bent  frame  and  tottering  knee, 
Tumble  into  the  grave! '     While  hope  is  fed 

By  her  kind  looks,  I  stir  not !     Live  or  die, 

Here  Blanid's  bright  eyes  gleam,  and  here  am  I ! " 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST   IN  MANA. 


43 


Then  Blanid's  bower-maid,  Mora,  touched  his  arm 
With  a  red  rose,  —  "  My  lady  sends  thee  this, 

Fair  knight,"  she  said,  "and  bids  thee  flee  the  harm 
That  threats  thy  life  and  ending  of  her  bliss  ! " 

And  she  was  gone  like  some  bright  fairy  charm 
One  meets  in  desert  places  but  to  miss,  — 

Gone  in  the  crowd  that  now  thronged  nigh  the 
King 

To  see  the  people  pass  the  fiery  ring. 

First  came  a  young  betrothed  pair,  their  heads 
All  garlanded  with  flower-buds,  side  by  side, 

Li-ght-footed,  glad,  across  the  clover  beds 
Of  the  fresh  mead,  more  following,  till  a  tide 

Of  human  life  and  joy  drew  nearthe  shreds 
And  ash  left  in  a  smouldering  circle  wide 

By    the    swift    flame,    where    each    pair    of    the 
band 

Leaped  o'er  the  smoking  barrier  hand  in  hand  ;  — 


44 


BLANID. 


Leaped  in  and  kissed  .each  other,  then  sprang  out, 
And  onward  danced  beneath  the  ancient  trees, 

Scattering  to  right  and  left  with  song  and  shout 
Over  the  grass,  —  all  ages,  all  degrees, 

Passed  by  the  King's  seat  in  that  merry  rout, 
Singing  sweet  songs  and  love-woven  melodies 

Of   birth  and   bloom  of   flowers  and  earth's   first 
prime 

And  all  the  gladness  of  their  summer  clime. 

Then  came  the  firstlings  of  each  herd  and  flock, 
The  snow-white  lamb,  the  silken  calf,  the  foal 

With  wondering  eyes,  the  gray  kid  from  the  rock, 
And    'cross   the   smoking   ring   and    round    the 
bole 

Of  each  tall  tree  were  driven  with  gentle  shock 
Of  down-poured  primroses  from  ferny  knoll 

Or  sunny  bank,  and  stroke  of  blossomed  spray 

Of  broom  and  lilac  and  sweet-smelling  may. 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST  IN   MANA-          45 

Then  for  good  fortune  rode  the  young  knights  by, 
All  life  and  laughter  pacing  o'er  the  ring, 

Till  with  drooped  plumes  and  lance-points  raised 

on  high, 
Half-hid  in  sacred  smoke,  they  passed  the  King, 

A  crowd  of  spears  thick  as  the  bearded  rye 
Upon  the  wind-blown  hill-side  following, 

And,  led  by  a  tall  squire,  adown  the  mead 

Barana,  the  King's  angry  battle  steed  ;  — 

Angry  and  swift  and  strong,  for  ne'er  before 
Had  rein  or  tightened  girth  upon  him  pressed  ; 

With   brass-shod   hoofs   the   blossomed   sward  he 

tore 
As  he  pranced  down  the  field  in  housings  dressed 

Of  silk  and  gold  ;  —  fierce  was  the  look  he  wore, 
With  shining  haunch,  and  broad-extended  breast, 

And  steel-gray  coat,  and  mane  of  lighter  gray 

Tossed  o'er  his  proud  neck  like  a  torrent's  spray. 


46  BLANID. 


Now  from  beside  the  royal  chair  a  knight 

Came  smiling  forth  to  pace  the  charger  through, 

r 

Sprang  on  his  back,  a  moment  curbed  his  might 
With  deft  hand,  and  a  doubtful  struggle  grew 

'Tween  both,  and  raged,  till,  like  an  arrow's  flight, 
Up  in  the  air  the  gallant  rider  flew 

And  soon  lay  on  the  greensward,  and  was  borne 

Out    from    the    throng    with    shame-faced    looks 
forlorn. 

A  second  won  the  fortune  of  the  first. 

Then  cautiously  a  third  young  knight  began 
To  stroke  the  steed,  and  well  nerved  for  the  worst 

Sprang  up,  and  then  came  down  his  full-length 

span 
Upon  the  sward  again  like  one  accurst. 

Then  cried  the  wily  King,  "  Perchance  yon  man 
A  head  and  shoulders  towering  o'er  the  crowd 
May  mount  my  steed  and  try  his  mettle  proud  ! " 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST  IN   MANA. 


47 


Cuhullin  looked.     Behind  the  royal  chair 
Stood  Blanid  with  a  red  rose  in  her  hand 

Upraised,  as  though  it  said,  "  Beware  !     Beware  ! 
The   coil    is    round    thee !      Fly,   ere    yet    the 
brand 

Touch  thy  beloved  neck  !  "     But  naught  soe'er 
Of  danger  now  could  curb  him,  and  he  scanned 

The  war-steed  with  admiring  gaze,  then  stood 

With  eyes  cast  down  awhile  in  musing  mood. 

Then  drew  he  near  to  strong  Barana's  side, 
And  at  a  bound  bestrode  him,  seized  the  rein 

And  plunged  him  o'er  the  sward  in  circles  wide, 
Handling  him  with  such  care  as  on  the  main 

The  mariner  bestows  'gainst  wind  and  tide 
Upon  his  bark  that  at  the  tiller's  strain 

Obedient   turns   though    rough^  the    course,  —  so 
led, 

Along  the  echoing  field  Barana  sped. 


48 


BLANID. 


Now  through  the  circle  like  a  flash  he  went, 
And  onward  'neath  the  arching  trees,  and  here, 

As  he  drave  rushing  on,  Cuhullin  leant 

Forward  beside  his  mane  and  snatched  a  spear 

From  a  rough  soldier's  hand,  and  frowning  sent 
A    shout    against    the    ranks    that,    marshalled 
near, 

Stood  ready  to  fall  on  him,  and  who  now 

Quailed  at  the  darkness  on  the  hero's  brow, — 

And  scattered  to  each  side  as  doth  the  pack 
Of  hungry  wolves  by  lone  Morgallion's  wave, 

That  follows  swift  upon  the  wild  boar's  track, 
To  find  him  thundering  from  his  hollow  cave 

Upon  them  with  bright  tusks  and  bristled  back 
Through  brush  and  reed,  —  so  at  the  shout  he 
gave 

They  scattered  right  and  left,  as  threatening  still 

He  turned  Barana  towards  the  barren  hill. 


THE  FLOWER  FEAST  IN   MAN  A.          49 

Away  with  cries  and  clattering  hoofs  behind, 
Across    the    stream    and    through    the    sacred 
grove, 

While  rose  the  King's  fierce  shout  upon  the  wind 
Angry,  as  when  in  wild  Tormana's  cove 

The  beast  howls  for  the  prey  he  cannot  find : 
Yet  howsoe'er  his  strong  pursuers  strove 

At  the  King's  voice,  Barana's  hoofs  of  speed 

Soon  left  them  far  behind  both  man  and  steed. 

That  eve  at  set  of  sun  Cuhullin  gained 
The  Waterfall,  the  lovely  Mead  and  Tree, 

And  by  the  cavern's  mouth  the  charger  reined, 
Alit,  and  bowed  his  head  and  bent  his  knee 

Unto  the  Gods  with  thankfulness  unfeigned, 
And  with  good  hope  of  happy  augury 

Barana  took,  and  in  the  cavern  rude 

Before     him     and     his     own     steed    spread    the 
food. 

3  D 


DLANID. 


I 


A  moment  stood  he  still,  and  with  delight 

Beheld   the   two   great    steeds    their    haunches 
press 

Together,  and  like  ancient  comrades  bite 

The  fragrant  heap  and  share  the  selfsame  tress 

Of  scented  clover-blossoms,  and  affright 

The  same  flies  with  their  tails  in  friendliness  ; 

Then  laughed  he  as  he  said,  "  This  augury 

Beginneth  well  for  my  beloved  and  me ! " 


THE    DESPAIR   OF  CUHULLIN. 


THE    DESPAIR   OF   CUHULLIN. 


T  TP  from  the  sapphire  depths  of  space  profound 
Arose  the  laughing  dawn,  and  all  the  skies 
Brightened  until,  beneath,  the  flowery  ground 
Laughed  in  return,  and  the  awakening  flies 
Outspread    their    jewelled   wings    with    gladsome 

sound 

To  welcome  her,  while  calls  and  joyous  cries 
Of  wild  things  from  the  bosky  dells  and  lays 
Of  birds  in  field  and  forest  sang  her  praise. 


52  BLANID. 


And     at     her     touch     Cuhullin     woke,     though 
deep 

He  slept,  forgetting  all  his  joys  and  woes, 
And  in  glad  wonder  saw  the  minstrel  reap 

The  meed  of  toil  in  dreamless,  calm  repose 
Beside  him  on  the  fragrant  heather  heap, 

His  hand  upon  the  harp-frame,  while  a  rose 
Red  as  young  Blanid's  lips  within  it  lay, 
Sole  trophy  of  the  merry  yesterday. 

He  laughed  unto  himself  with  secret  joy 
To  see  his  loved  one's  symbol  lying  there, 

And  stole  from  out  the  cave,  and,  to  employ 
The  heavenly  hour,  across  the  meadow  fair 

Walked    down    to   where   the  wild-birds,    nothing 

coy 
At  the  tall  stranger's  presence,  filled  the  air 

With  tremulous  music  and  the  tumbling  flood 

Answered  from  green  recesses  of  the  wood. 


THE  DESPAIR   OF  CUHULUN. 


53 


Beside  the  stream  he  sat  and  mused  awhile 

Till  the  first  sunbeam  found  the  blossomed  glade 

Through   the   green   leaves,   and   many   a   lover's 

wile 
He  formed  to  meet  again  the  royal  maid, 

To  clasp  her  hand,  to  bask  him  in  her  smile, 
Till,  with  a  look  of  gladness  that  betrayed 

His  heart's  resolve,  he  turned  him  o'er  the  dew 

Of  the  fresh  mead  and  sought  the  cave  anew. 

At  this  same  hour  young  Mora  to  the  side 

Of  Blanid's  couch  came:  "Up!"  she  said;  "the 

day, 
O  mistress  !  laughs  upon  the  waters  wide 

And  lights  the  whispering  woods  !    Up  and  away 
Into  our  garden  where  the  humming  tide 

From  the  cool  fountain  falls  in  diamond  spray 
Adown  the  mossy  rocks,  and  where  in  glee 
The  blithe  birds  sing  to  welcome  morn  and  thee ! 


54  BLANID. 


"  And  I  will  bring  the  lute  that  thou  hast  taught 
My  fingers  to  make  mournful  or  unsad, 

As  each  fresh  mood  within  thy  dear  heart  wrought 
Its  influence ;  and  the  merry  hours  we  had 

Last  morn  within  the  garden  will  seem  naught 
This  day  to  thee,  for  now  thy  heart  is  glad 

With  yon  tall  hero's  love,  they  say  thy  mind 

Will  run  on   thoughts  e'en   still    more   glad   and 
kind ! " 

Like  a  young  rose  touched  by  the  gold  of  morn, 
Blanid  awoke,  and,  looking,  laughed  and  said,  — 

"  Small  wonder  since  the  day  that  thou  wert  born 
Thou  'rt  called  the  Chatterer !     Seems  as  thou 
wert  bred 

With  daws  and  jays,  all  merry  things  that  scorn 
A  silent  hour ;  but  hither  thy  bright  head 

Of  nut-brown  hair,  that  I  may  kiss  thine  eyes 

And  lips,  and  pay  thee  for  thy  morn's  surprise ! " 


THE   DESPAIR   OF  CUHULLIN.  55 

'Mid  fern  and  foxglove  by  the  woodland  rill 
The  quick-eyed  ousel  prinks  herself  in  pride 

On   the   cool   bank,   when    the   voice    sweet    and 

shrill 
Of  her  mate  calls  her,  —  with  dark  head  aside 

She  looks  this  way  and  that,  then  runs  until 
She  joins  him  in  the  sunshine,  —  so  with  glide 

Of  body  and  light  foot  across  the  room 

Young  Mora  sought  her  lady's  arms  of  bloom. 

And  then,  as  Blanid  kissed  her,  playfully 

She  broke  from  out  the  circling  arms  and  cried, 

Clapping  her  hands,  "Ah  not  for  me,  for  me 
That  last  kiss  was  !  for  yester  morningtide, 

When   thou  didst  kiss  me  'neath   the   blossomed 

tree 
Beside  the  we'll,  thou  strovest  not  to  hide 

Thy  blushes  from  me  !     Ah  !  I  wis,  I  wis 

The  robber  of  Barana  owns  that  kiss  ! " 


56  BLANID. 


Deeper  the  Bright  One's  blush,  though  well  she 
strove 

To  hide  it,  as  the  Chatterer  cried  again,  — 
"  Oh  !  would  that  I  were  old  enough  to  love 

And  know  what  love  is  and  be  loved  by  men  ! 
I  tell  thee  I  would  make  my  champion  prove 

His  mettle  among  heroes  ;  in  the  fen 
Of  Gurmal  the  Gray  Serpent  he  should  slay 
With  sword  and  spear  before  the  bridal  day! 

"  For  I  was  taught  by  poets  sweet  and  wise 

Within  my  brother's  hall  what  knights  should  be, 

And  mine  should  have  a  soul  of  high  emprise, 
And  with  brass  keels  should  plough  the  stubborn 
sea 

To  foreign  lands,  where  untold  treasure  lies 
In  dragon's  dens,  and  he  should  bring  to  me 

The  dragon's  claws  as  tokens,  and  full  measure 

Unto  my  house  of  all  the  priceless  treasure ! 


THE  DESPAIR   OF    CUHULLIN. 


57 


"And  he  should  have  three  hounds  with  golden 
chains 

And  bells  all  tinkling  like  the  gay  harp's  thrills, 
A  war-steed  from  the  far-off  emerald  plains 

Of  Human,  and  a  hawk  from  Norway's  hills  ;  — 
The  three  sweet  Berries  of  the  Yew  with  stains 

Of  crimson  on  them,  from  Dunthirre's  rills, 
He  'd  bring  to  me,  with  the  bright  Marigold 
Three-headed  from  Birara's  magic  wold  ;  — 

"And  he  —  "     Here  like  a  posy  of  fresh  pink 
Blanid's  fair  hand  upon  her  mouth  was  pressed, 

To  stay  the  flood  of  talk  that  o'er  its  brink 

Was  bubbling  now  so  fast.    "  Unblest !  unblest 

The   hapless    man,"    she    cried,   "foredoomed    to 

drink 
The  bridal  cup  with  thee,  for  naught  of  rest 

He  '11  know  till  his  last  life-thread  is  unstrung, 

While  thou  art  near  him  with  thy  prattling  tongue  ! 
3* 


58  BLANID. 


"  And  yet  I  love  thee,  child  ;  and  well  I  may, 
Since  thy  strong  sire,  great  lord  of  Beramere, 

Gave  his  life  for  my  father's  in  that  fray 
Waged  with  Tintagel's  heroes,  ere  a  year 

Had  crowned  thy  winsome  head  with  ringlets  gay  ; 
And  now  thou  knowest  my  heart,  oh !  still  more 
dear 

I  love  thee,  thou  sweet  pearl !    Then  come,  and  bring 

Thy  lute  with  thee,  that  thou  mayest  play  and  sing." 

Then  forth  they  went,  and  through  a  wicket  small 
Of  brazen  tracery  sought  the  garden  fair, 

Where  through   the   luminous,  whispering   leaves 

did  fall 
Shafts  of  white  sunlight  upon  blossoms  rare 

From  every  clime  ;  and  nigh  the  further  wall 
They  sat  them  down  upon  a  fresh  bank,  where 

The  placid  fount,  the  garden's  azure  eye, 

Returned  the  love-lit  glances  of  the  sky. 


THE  DESPAIR   OF   CUHULLIN.  59 

And  Blanid  said,  "  Sweet  blossom  of  the  May, 
Sing  me  a  song  to  cheer  me."     Eager  then 

Brown  Mora  answered,  "  Shall  I  sing  the  Lay 
Of  Garmon,  or  the  Lady  and  the  Wren, 

Or  Starry  Fingers,  or  the  Twilight  Fay, 
Or  that  old  mournful  song  beloved  of  men 

And    maids,    The    Knight    forlorn   slept    in   the 
Wood, 

The  Gold  Branch,  or  White  Mergal  by  the  Flood, 

Or  Mora  and  the  Moon,  that  Tiernan  sings, 
Our  minstrel,  or  The  blooming  Almond  Tree, 

The  Mermaid  and  the  Man,  or  Silver  Wings  —  " 
"  Sing,"  said  fair  Blanid  laughing,  —  "  Sing  to  me 

The  song  that  Tiernan  made  for  thee,  —  that  brings 
Gladness  whene'er  't  is  sung  !  "      "  O  mistress  ! 


see," 


Cried  Mora,  "  yon  two  doves  upon  their  bough  ! 
For  them  he  made  this  song  I  sing  thee  now." 


60  BLANID. 


"THE   DOVES. 

"  My  little  blue  doves  were  born, 

Were  born  in  the  windy  March, 

Up  in  the  tapering  larch 
That  laughs  in  the  light  of  morn  : 
O,  so  high  o'er  the  meadow  ! 

O,  so  high  o'er  the  glen  ! 
And  they  sit  in  the  leafy  shadow, 

The  joy  and  delight  of  men, 
Cooing,  with  voices  flowing 

In  melody  soft  and  sweet, 
Their  necks  with  the  rainbow  glowing, 

And  the  pink  on  their  silver  feet. 

"  My  little  doves  lived  together, 
Unweeting  of  woe  and  pain, 
Through  the  days  of  the  winds  and  rain 
And  the  sunny  and  fragrant  weather  ; 


THE  DESPAIR   OF    CUHULLIN.  6 1 

And  the  lark  sang  o'er  them  in  heaven, 

And  the  linnet  from  banks  of  flowers, 
And  the  robin  chanted  at  even, 

And  the  thrush  in  the  morning  hours 
Carolled  to  cheer  their  wooing, 

And  the  blackbird  merry  and  bold 
Answered  their  cooing,  cooing 

Out  from  the  windy  wold. 

"  When  the  daisy  its  eye  uncloses, 

And  the  cowslip  glistens  with  dew, 

And  the  hyacinth  pure  and  blue 
And  the  lilies  and  pearl-bright  roses 
Prink  themselves  in  the  splendor 

Of  the  delicate  white-foot  Dawn, 
'Mid  the  flowers  and  the  fragrance  tender 

My  little  dove's  heart  was  thawn 
With  love  by  the  cooing,  cooing 

Of  the  gentle  mate  at  her  side, 
And  they  married  in  midst  of  their  wooing, 

My  bridegroom  and  woodland  bride  !  " 


62  BLANID. 


Now  take  the  lute  thyself,  O  mistress  sweet, 
And  sing  to  me  of  love,  and  let  me  know 

What  love  is,  for  't  is  surely  most  unmeet 
That  I  should  sit  in  hall  and  see  a  glow 

In    young    squires'   eyes    my   morning    presence 

greet, 
Not  knowing  why.     Sing !  that  I  may  bestow 

Four  kisses  on  thee,  —  two  from  me,  and  two 

For  one  who  worships  well  thine  eyes  of  blue ! " 

And  Blanid  took  the  lute,  and  "  Would  that  I 
Could  tell  thee,  child ! "  she  said.     "  But   since 
that  noon 

He  saved  me  in  the  forest,  the  bright  sky 
Seems  brighter,  and  all  things  I  see  a  boon 

Sent  by  the  Gods  who  rule  in  heaven  on  high, 
To  give  me  gladness  ;  but  alas  !  too  soon 

My  father's  ire  will  end  it ;  and  to  thee 

I  '11  sing  my  thoughts  of  what  the  end  may  be  :  - 


THE  DESPAIR   OF   CUHULLIN.  63 


"WHAT   IS  THIS   LOVE? 

"  What  is  this  love,  —  this  love  that  makes 

My  heart's  warm  pulses  quiver? 
They  say  it  is  the  power  that  wakes 
The  hyacinth  'mid  hazel  brakes, 

The  lilies  by  the  river, 
And  that  same  thing  that  bids  the  dove 
Sit  in  the  pine-tree  high  above, 

Its  sweetheart  wooing ; 
But  oh  !  alas  !  whate'er  it  be, 
And  howsoe'er  it  comes  to  me, 

It  comes  for  my  undoing  ! 

"  The  lily  of  the  river  side 

By  its  sweet  mate  reposes 
Through  autumn  moons  and  winter-tide, 
To  wake  in  love  and  beauty's  pride 
When  comes  the  time  of  roses, 


64  BLANID. 


And  in  the  springing  of  the  year 
The  doves'  sweet  voices  you  will  hear 

Their  vows  renewing ; 
But  oh  !  alas  !  whate'er  love  be, 
And  howsoe'er  it  comes  to  me, 

It  comes  for  my  undoing  ! 

"  O  child  !  I  fear  this  love,  for  always  pain 

It  mingles  with  its  joy,  I  fear,  I  fear 
I  know  not  what  while  in  my  heart  doth  reign 

This  tyrant.  —  But  the  air  is  sultry  here, 
And  I  would  see  the  foxglove's  purple  stain 

And  heather,  and  would  smell  the  blossomed  brere, 
And  love  to  pluck  the  forest  flowers,  and  yearn 
To  trail  my  robe  amidst  the  fragrant  fern ! " 

And  forth  they  went,  and  left  the  garden  bright 
Through  a  small  postern,  and  't  was  joy  to  see 

Their  young  hearts  tasting  of  the  dear  delight 
Of  freedom  in  fresh  woods ;  each  branching  tree 


THE  DESPAIR   OF    CUHULLIN.  65 

To  them  towered  upward  to  a  glorious  height ; 
The  zephyrs  sang,  the  rill,  the  bird,  the  bee, 
Sang  in  return,  till  all  the  flowery  ground 
Seemed  pulsing  to  the  sweet  pervading  sound. 

At  length  they  heard  the  murmur  of  the  river 
Wherein  the  forest  streamlets  plunge  and  drown 

Their  merriment,  and  'mid  the  stir  and  quiver 
Of  grasses  and  green  leaves  they  sat  them  down 

Upon  a  bank  where  thyme,  the  perfume-giver 
To  flocks  and  herds  on  hills  and  moorlands  brown, 

Grew  thick  with  bronzed  moss,  heath,  and  lacly's- 
dower, 

Wild  hyacinth  and  every  woodland  flower. 

And  as  they  sat,  their  quickened  senses  steeping 
In  the  new  life  and  glory  of  the  wood, 

Young  Mora  through  the  blossomed  thicket  peeping 
Saw  a  tall  man  anigh  them,  where  the  flood 

E 


66  BLANID. 


Adown  its  pebbly  bed  went  gaily  leaping  ;  — 

A  minstrel's  cloak  he  wore,  a  minstrel's  hood 
Of  seven  fresh  colors  bright,  and  in  his  hand 
lie  held  a  glittering  harp  that  lit  the  strand. 

Upon  a  stone  he  sat,  and  silently 

Gazed  on  the  crystal  tide,  while  near  him  played 
The  river-birds  unfrightened.     "  Hush  !  't  is  he  !  " 

Glad  Mora  cried,  "  the  minstrel,  all  arrayed 
For  musjc  as  on  yesterday  !     What  glee ! 

To  hear  the  fairy  music  that  he  made ! 
But  hush!  he  stirs  ;  —  let 's  take  what  fortune  brings! 
He   wakes    the    sounding   wires  !       He    sings,    he 
sings  ! " 

SONG. 
"  O  Wind  of  the  west  that  bringest, 

O'er  wood  and  lea, 

Perfume  of  flowers  from  my  lady's  bowers 
And  a  strain  and  a  melody,  — 


THE  DESPAIR   OF    CUHULLIN.  67 

While  soft  'mid  the  bloom  thou  singest 

Thy  songs  of  laughter  and  sighs, 

Steal  in  where  my  darling  lies 
With  a  kiss  to  her  mouth  from  me  ! 

"  White  Rose,  when  at  morn  thou  twinest 

Her  lattice  fair, 
Wave  to  and  fro  in  the  fresh  sun's  glow 

Till  she  wakes  and  beholds  thee  there  ;  — 
When  over  her  brow  thou  shinest, 

Then  whisper  from  me,  and  press 

On  her  dear  head  one  fond  caress, 
And  a  kiss  on  her  yellow  hair  ! 

"  O  Rose  !  and  O  Wind  that  found  her 

'Mid  morning's  glee  ! 
While  the  noon  goes  by,  keep  ever  nigh 

With  your  beauty  and  melody ;  — 
With  your  smile  and  your  song  stay  round  her 

Till  she  closes  her  eyelids  bright ; 

Then  give  her  a  sweet  Good-night 
And  a  kiss  on  the  lips  from  me  ! " 


68  BLANID. 


The  first  note  Blanid  heard,  her  face  grew  wan, 
Half-rose  she,  trembling,  with  dilated  eyes, 

Sat  down  again,  and  some  sweet  flowers  that  shone 
Beside  her  she  plucked  up,  and  like  a  prize 

Beloved  kissed  them  as  the  strain  went  on, 
And  laughed  a  little,  till,  like  morning  skies 

Reddening  with  dainty  rose,  the  blush  that  speaks 

Of  health  and  joy  returned  to  her  fair  cheeks. 

Then  laughed  she  unto  Mora,  "  He  is  here  ! 

No  minstrel  he,  but  my  strong  lover  true ! 
Though  Death  with  his  pale  hand  should  close  mine 
ear, 

His  voice  would  pierce  my  fond  heart  and  renew 
Its  throbbings,  lying  cold  upon  the  bier, 

The  grave-clothes  round  me!     Bring  him  here 

and  strew 

Some  flowers  upon  this  sunny  bank  to  bless 
Our  wondrous  meeting  and  our  happiness  ! " 


THE  DESPAIR   OF    CUHULLIN.  69 

And  Mora  plucked  the  bright  fresh-smelling  flowers 
And  strewed  them  on  the  bank,  then  out  she  ran 

With  loose  hair  through  the  intervening  bowers 
And  down  the  slope,  and,  ere  the  bright-robed  man 

Knew  where  he  sat,  rained  kisses  sweet  in  showers 
On  both  his  cheeks,  and  "  Come,"  she  said,  "  the 
ban 

Of  her  great  sire  is  on  thee ;  but  let  me 

In  all  these  things  thy  kind  protector  be." 

She  took  his  hand  in  hers,  and  like  a  child 
He  followed  her  with  joyful  throbbing  heart 

Up  the  green  slope,  till  through  the  copses  wild 
He   reached    the   place,  and   saw   new   blushes 
start 

Unto  his  loved  one's  fair  cheek  as  she  smiled 
Like  a  full  moon  on  him.     With  lips  apart 

And  upraised  hands  she  stood  before  him,  fain 

To  clasp  him  to  her  happy  breast  again ! 


B  LAN  ID. 


Then  hand  touched  hand,  and  face  met  burning  face, 
And  sweet  words  passed,  as  sweet  words  will  forever 

'Tween  hearts  that  love,  and  'mid  that  bloomy  place 
They  sat  them  down,  and  in  the  wide  world  never 

Sat  such  a  pair  ;  their  looks,  their  smiles,  gave  grace 
And  beauty  to  the  spot  no  thought  could  sever 

From  all  things  round,  all  things  that  laugh  and  live 

In  sunshine  and  the  gladness  sunbeams  give ! 

Said  Blanid,  "  Since  the  hour  I  saw  thee  first 
Thou  'rt  in  my  heart !  "    Said  he,  "  Since  that  glad 

hour, 
My  heart  has  yearned  with  love's  insatiate  thirst, 

Burning  for  thee,  and  some  immortal  power 
Impels  me  to  thee  through  the  best  and  worst 
Of  this  my  life  ! "     Said  she,  "  Black  clouds  may 

lower 

Upon  our  love,  but  my  love  will  remain 
Unchanged  through  all,  —  through  all  life's  joy  and 
pain!" 


THE  DESPAIR  OF   CUHULLIN.  ji 

He  pressed  his  lips  to  hers  and  to  his  breast 
•Her  throbbing  breast,  and  said,  "Through  all  I 
see 

Of  peril  and  of  sorrow  and  unrest, 

My  love  shall  grow  like  yonder  vigorous  tree 

That  rears  unto  the  sky  its  blossomed  crest, 
Gladdening  the  forest ;  so  my  love  shall  be, 

Till,  as  a  blast  strikes  low  the  proud  tree's  head, 

Fate  comes  and  counts  me  with  the  early  dead ! 

"  For  know,  beloved  one,  my  weird  and  doom  ! 

When  I  was  sixteen  summers,  Caffa  old, 
The  King's  seer,  prophesied,  and  pierced  the  gloom 

Of  the  veil  'tween  us  and  the  Gods,  and  told 
That  he  who  on  the  morrow  would  assume 

Knighthood  should  be  the  pink  and  pearl  and 

gold 

Of  chivalry,  and  that  his  fame  should  die 
Only  when  earth  died  and  the  eternal  sky. 


72  BLANID. 


"  With  wrapt  eyes  still  he  prophesied,  and  said, 
'  His  fame  shall  be  a  tree  whose  branches  wide 

Shall  overspread  the  world,  but  he  is  wed 
Unto  a  weird,  that  in  the  strength  and  pride 

Of  early  manhood  he  shall  fill  the  bed 

Of  death  !  who  takes  the  weird  ? '    And  I  replied, 

'  I  take  it ! '  and  a  knight  was  made  next  day, 

The  short  life  and  the  glorious  for  my  pay. 

"Therefore,  O  maid!    my  love   shall   bring   thee 
sorrow !  " 

"  Therefore,"  she  cried,  "  my  love  will  bring  thee 

bliss 
Through  thy  short  life,  O  valiant  one !  and  borrow 

Light  from  all  things  for  thee,  and  what  we  miss 
Of  length  of  days  what  boots  it,  when  a  morrow 

Will  come  at  last  when  we  shall  fade  like  this,— 
This  little  flower  I  hold  within  my  hand, 
That,  plucked  or  not,  would  die  upon  the  strand  ? " 


THE  DESPAIR   OF   CUHULLIN.  73 

And  thus  they  sat  and  vowed,  till  from  the  bank 
Of  the  bright  stream  came  Mora,  lilting  sweet 

Her  Dove  Song,  then  long  draughts  of  love  they 

drank 
Each  from  the  other's  eyes,  for  hours  are  fleet 

When  soul  meets  soul  and  time  is  ever  blank  ;  — 
And  Mora  said,  "  I  hear  the  hurrying  feet 

Of  hunters  in  the  wood  and  ye  must  part ;  — 

Now  let  me  see  how  heart  beats  unto  heart ! " 

Upstood  they  trembling  with  their  love,  and  he 
Opening  his  arms,  unto  his  breast  she  flew, 

Her  fond  arms  round  his  neck,  and  mournfully 
She  kissed  him  till  he  felt  the  love-born  dew 

Of  her  tears  on  his  cheeks.     "  I  see  !  I  see  !  " 
Cried  Mora  now,  "  how  true  heart  beats  to  true ! 

Away,  before  the  hunters  find  the  trace, 

But    come   and   meet    next    morn    in    this    bright 
place ! " 


74  BLANID. 


Six  times  they  met.    On  the  sixth  morn  she  said, 
"  Where  is  thy  war-gear,  O  brave  love  of  mine  ? 

For  I  would  see  thy  bright  helm  on  thy  head, 
Thy  battle  harness  with  its  bosses  shine 

Of    gold    and    brass,    thy   shield    with    Branches 

Red 
Graven  upon  it ! "  —  "  Where  the  salty  brine 

Rolls  up  the  river  mouth,"  he  said,  "  they  lie 

Within  my  broad-sailed  galley  for  thine  eye. 

"  Then  come  with  me,  O  love,  and  in  my  hall 
Of    strong   Dun    Dalgan    thou    a    queen    shalt 
reign, 

And  mistress  of  my  fond  heart,  over  all 
The  ladies  of  the  land,  while  I  attain 

All  things  for  love  and  thee,  before  my  fall 
In  the  great  fight  upon  the  fated  plain,  — 

Before  I  die  and  laugh  no  more  with  thee  ! " 

"  Ah  !  no,  no,  no  !  "  she  cried,  "  it  cannot  be  ! 


THE  DESPAIR   OF    CUHULLIN.  75 

"  What  wouldst  thou  think  of  me  in  years  to  come 
If  I  should  list  to  thee,  if  I  should  yield, 

When  underneath  the  earth  my  sire  was  dumb 
And  could  not  speak  his  wrath  with  spear  and 
shield, 

When  thou  wouldst  say,  '  She  left  her  happy  home, 
Her  hard  heart  like  a  frozen  fountain  sealed 

'Gainst  her  gray  sire !     Can  she  be  true  to  me  ? ' 

Ah  !  no,  no,  no !     Alas  !  it  cannot  be ! " 

They  parted,  and  upon  the  seventh  bright  morn, 
As  he  rode  upward  through  the  forest  wild, 

A  small  black  cloud  within  the  east  was  born 
Beneath  the  sun,  and  oft  looked  down  and  smiled 

With  serpent  face  on  fields  of  tender  corn 

And   leaf    and   flower   of  woodland    calm    and 
mild, 

And  lake  and  stream,  as  though  it  whispered,  "  I 

Will  soon  devour  all  things  beneath  the  sky  !  " 


BLANID. 


And  as  he  rode,  the  cloud  clomb  up  the  east 
On  the  sun's  track  and  swallowed  it ;  around, 

From  copse  and  brake  the  birds  their  carols  ceased 
In  terror,  and  the  multitudinous  sound 

Of  the  wood's  life  grew  still ;  the  bristled  beast 
'Gainst    the    rough    oak    his    tusks    in     anger 
ground, 

The  trout  sank  in  the  stream,  the  rabbit  fled, 

And  the  brown  otter  sought  his  caverned  bed. 

As  he  went  through  the  valley  of  the  Mead 
And  Waterfall  and  Tree,  east,  south  and  west 

And  the  grim  north  were  black  :  but  little  heed 
He  took  of  all  the  gloom,  as  on  he  pressed, 

With  high  heart,  clothed  in  his  battle  weed, 
To  meet  his  love,  his  spear  in  hand,  his  crest 

Brightening    the    gloom,    as    on     he    rode     like 
Nied, 

The  God  of  War,  along  that  river  side. 


THE  DESPAIR   OF    CUHULLIN.  77 

And  as  he  came  unto  the  trysting-place 

To  find  his  love,  and  found  no  love  was  there, 

His  battle-steed,  Lia  Macha,  raised  her  face 
And  neighed  three  times,  'till  through  the  murky 
air 

The  Gods  sent  lightning  from  the  dreadful  space 
'Tvveen  the  cloud's  serpent  jaws,  and  in  the  glare 

He  saw  the  wood  surrounded,  and  the  sheen 

Of  threatening  swords  the  mossy  trunks  between ! 

And  as  he  moved  the  great  shield  from  his  back 
And  poised  it  on  his  arm,  Lia  Macha  smote 

The  ground  with  earthquake  hoof,  and  still  more 

black 
The  gloom  became,  and  from  the  sulphurous  throat 

Of  the  grim  cloud  burst  thunder  like  the  wrack 
Of  worlds  in  their  destruction,  and  a  moat 

The  glade  seemed  in  a  moment,  from  the  flood 

Of  rain  dashed  down  from  heaven  upon  the  wood ! 


BLAN1D. 


Then  spake  he  to  Lia  Macha :  "  Thou  divine, 
Bright  searcher  of  the  souls  of  heroes,  thou 

Who,  on  the  first  morn  the  sharp  sword  did  shine 
Of  Knighthood  in  my  hand,  didst  raise  thy  brow 

And  neigh  portentous  till  the  deafening  sign 
All  Eman  shook,  as  earth  and  heaven  shakes 
now 

At  thy  dread  voice,  comrade  of  my  last  fray, 

Ah !  bear  me  well,  ah  !  bear  me  well  to-day ! " 

Then    raised    he    high    his    spear    and     in     the 
gleam 

Of  the  pale  lightning  shook  it,  till  its  stave 
Trembled,  as  a  young  willow  by  the  stream 

Amidst  the  fairy  whirlwind,  and  he  gave 
The  rein  to  the  fleet  steed  who,  like  a  beam 

Piercing  the  dreadful  darkness,  onward  drave 
Against  the  foeman's  thickest  ranks  that  came 
With  a  fierce  shout  upon  him  swift  as  flame ! 


THE  DESPAIR   OF   CUHULLIN.  79 

And  round  him  and  Lia  Macha  flickering  played 
The  lightning,  till  to  every  foeman's  eye 

He  seemed  a  wild  bright  thing  from  heaven  arrayed 
Bursting  upon  them,  and  his  battle-cry 

Smote  them  as  smote  the  thunder,  till  afraid 
They  cowered  before  him,  as  he  swept  anigh 

With  levelled  spear,  and  through  them  rushing  went 

As   a   fierce   bull    drives    through    the    mountain 
bent! 

Then  rose  a  wind  around  him  and  between 
His  foes  and  him,  upon  the  echoing  shore, 

And  grew  in  strength  and  scourged  the  copses  green 
With  wallowing  sound  like  a  huge  lion's  roar 

In  haunted  forests  where  no  foot  has  been, 
And  blew  around  in  circles  and  uptore 

Tall  trees  from  their  strong  footholds,  stem  and 
spray, 

Shaking  them  as  a  wild  beast  shakes  his  prey ! 


So  BLANID. 


No  more  the  ambush  followed  ;  yet  the  storm 
With  tenfold  fury  raged,  as  on  he  flew 

Through   hollows  with   the  murderous   lightnings 

warm, 
Through  swollen  and  boiling  torrents  that  upthrcw 

Their  treacherous  waves  round  bright  Lia  Macha's 

form 
To  clasp  her,  unavailing,  till  he  drew 

Nigh  to  the  valley  of  the  Mead  and  Tree, 

And  then  the  storm  passed  on  and  smote  the  sea. 

And  the  sun  shone,  and  all  the  forest  leaves 
Seemed  hung  with  trembling  glories  glittering, 

The  blithe  red-breasted  bird  his  song  that  weaves 
Upon  the  hawthorn  bush  began  to  sing, 

And  thrushes  spoke,  and  the  lone  wight  that  grieves 
At  dark  gave  forth  a  strain,  and  many  a  wing 

Of  wood-doves  struck  the  air,  and  blossoms  sweet 

Laughed  in  the  sunlight  round  Lia  Macha's  feet. 


THE  DESPAIR    OF  CUHULLIN.  8 1 

And  now  from  the  strong  charger  he  alit, 

And  stroked  her  'tween  the  ears,  and  led  her 
down 

The  mead,  to  where  the  brightest  spot  was  smit 
By  sunbeams  till  it  glittered  like  a  crown 

With  jewelled  blossoms  ;  then  the  golden  bit 
He  loosed  and  set  her  free,  and  with  a  frown 

Turned  upward  to  the  torrent's  ridge  of  stone 

To  think  upon  his  misery  alone. 

He  sat  upon  the  rocky  ledge,  while  loud 

The  river  down  its  passage  raged  and  roared 

That  erstwhile  sang,  and  o'er  him  from  a  cloud 
The  forest  eagle  screamed  as  high  it  soared 

With  voice  of  bitter  anger,  and  a  shroud 

The   grass   looked   on    the   meadow,  and    there 
poured 

Out  from  his  laden  heart  without  relief 

This  stammering  to  himself  of  deadly  grief :  — 


82  BLANID. 


"  Earth,  air,  and  sun,  and  moon  and  star, 
Of  man's  strange  soul  but  mirrors  are, 
Bright  when  the  soul  is  bright,  and  dark 
As  now,  without  one  saving  spark, 
While  the  black  tides  of  sorrow  flow, 
And  I  am  suffering  and  I  know  { 

"  To  my  sad  eyes  that  sorrow  dims 
The  greenest  grass  the  swallow  skims, 
The  flowers  that  once  were  fair  to  me, 
The  meadow  and  the  blooming  tree, 
Dark  as  funereal  garments  grow, 
And  I  am  suffering,  and  I  know  ! " 

Then  stood  he  up,  and,  striding  to  and  fro, 

He  muttered,  "  Is  she  false  ?     Has  she  betrayed 

My  presence  to  her  sire  ?     Ah  !  no,  no,  no  ! 
It  cannot  be !     Her  father's  spies  have  played 

Their  part  within  the  wood  ;  and  days  shall  grow 
To  weary  moons,  and  moons  in  years  shall  fade, 

Ere  I  behold  her  dear  face,  now  she's  gone, 

And  lost  to  me  for  aye  !"     And  he  went  on  :  — 


THE  DESPAIR    OF  CUHULLIN.  83 

"  The  measured  sounds  of  dancing  feet, 
The  songs  of  wood-birds  wild  and  sweet, 
The  music  of  the  horn  and  flute, 
Of  the  gold  strings  of  harp  and  lute, 
Unheeded  all  shall  come  and  go, 
For  I  am  suffering,  and  I  know  ! 

"  No  kindly  counsel  of  a  friend 
With  soothing  balm  the  hurt  can  mend. 
I  walk  alone  in  grief,  and  make 
My  bitter  moan  for  her  dear  sake, 
For  loss  of  love  is  man's  worst  woe, 
And  I  am  suffering,  and  I  know  ! 

"  Misery,  companion  dread, 
Thou  art  partner  of  my  bed. 
Soul  to  soul  will  you  and  I 
Ever  on  the  same  couch  lie, 
While  life's  bitter  waters  flow, 
And  I  am  suffering,  and  I  know  ! " 


84 


BLANID. 


Then  cried  he,  "  Shall  I  suffer  till  the  hour 

When  through  the  fated  wound  my  soul  shall 
fly? 

Can  battlemented  walls,  or  fosse  or  tower, 
Or  king  or  vassal,  shut  her  from  mine  eye  ? 

No  !     By  my  hand  of  valor !  if  there 's  power 
In  sword  and  spear  I  '11  win  her  ere  I  die ! 

Nor  time,  nor  tide,  nor  intervening  sea, 

Nor  bitter  wave,  shall  be  a  bar  to  me ! " 

And  now  he  called  Lia  Macha  and  bestrode 
Her  bright  back  with  its  gay  caparison. 

And  through  the  glen  and  rain-wet  forest  rode 
In  sorrow,  till  the  river-mouth  he  won, 

Where    lay    his    long-hulled    galley,    and    where 

glowed 
The  minstrel's  robe  th'  embattled  poop  upon, 

As  he  sat  waiting  with  his  harp,  again 

To  greet  the  hero's  ears  with  some  blithe  strain. 


THE  DESPAIR   OF    CUHULLIN.  85 

And  when  the  slant  sun  lit  the  waters  wide, 
Lia  Macha  stood  within  her  brazen  stall 

Upon  the  galley's  deck,  and  by  her  side 
Barana  whinnied  like  the  gladsome  call 

Of  friend  to  friend  ;  and  favoring  wind  and  tide 
Now  turning  to  the  west,  the  rocky  wall 

Of  Mana's  cliffs  they  left,  and  through  the  spray 

For    sad    Cuhullin's    home    they   ploughed    their 
way. 

And  as  the  hero  sat  with  gloomy  look 

Gazing  upon  the  land  where  mourned  his  love, 

Ferkertne  without  weeping  scarce  could  brook 
His  bitter  woe,  and  with  sweet  language  strove 

To  soothe  him,  but  such  sorrow  ne'er  forsook 
Its  prey  for  kindly  pleadings.     Of  the  grove 

In  Mana  and  his  heart's  lost  love  and  pride 

He    only    thought,    and    smote    his    breast    and 
cried :  — 


86  BLANID. 


"  Can  I  think  with  a  heart  elate 

Of  the  looks  and  the  smiles  that  won  me, 
While  the  dreadful  finger  of  fate 

With  its  touch  of  iron  is  on  me  ?  — 
When  I  sleep  in  my  grave  alone 

Where  the  terror  of  darkness  lies, 
The  joy  of  her  voice's  tone, 

The  glance  of  her  love-lit  eyes, 

Will  pierce  through  the  earth  above  me,  and  bid  me  arise  ! 
arise  ! 

"  For  the  pitiless  bitter  wave 

Of  mine  early  doom  must  devour  me,  — 
But  the  laurels  that  deck  the  grave 

Of  the  valiant  dead  will  embower  me  ; 
And  perchance  in  the  years  to  come, 
In  the  fondness  of  tears  and  sighs, 
She  may  lean  o'er  my  lonely  tomb,  — 

Then  up  to  her  sobs  and  cries, 

Through  the  earth  and  the  tangled  grasses,  my  wakened 
soul  will  arise  !" 


THE  DESPAIR    OF  CUHULLIN.  87 

Then  thought  flew  after  thought  on  pinions  fleet 
Through    his   wild    brain,   and    as    they   darker 
grew, 

Despair,  the  obscene  bird  with  taloned  feet, 
Tore  at  his  heart,  and  every  breath  he  drew 

Seemed  fire,  until  he  thought  how  heroes  meet 
And  fall,  and  then  he  saw  the  ghastly  dew 

Of  death  on  him,  and  the  black  battle-crow 

Perched  on  him  on  the  red  field  lying  low. 

Then  smote  he  at  his  breast  again,  and  cried,  — 
"  Is  this  the  end  of  all  ?     Alas  !  will  she, 

My  love  !  my  love  !  no  more  be  at  my  side 

In  the  strange  land  with   Gods  where   I  shall 
be,- 

With  Gods  and  heroes  in  the  angry  pride 
Of  a  forlorn  heart  ?     Alas  !  with  me 

Will  she  abide  again  ?     Perchance  she  may 

Walk  by  my  side  through  the  eternal  day ! " 


88  BLANID. 


Now  went  he  where  the  minstrel  sat,  and  took 
The  harp  from  him,  and  with  in-gazing  eye 

Drew  his  hand  o'er  the  golden  strings,  and  strook 
A  strain,  and,  as  when  'mid  the  mountains  high 

An  eagle  questing  o'er  the  roaring  brook 

Feels   through   his   breast    the    archer's    arrow 

fly, 

With  dreadful  voice 'he  cries  his  cry  of  pain, 
Darkening  the  wet  gray  sands  with  bloody  stain  ;  — 

So  rose  the  hero's  wild  and  fierce  lament, 

And    the   brown    sailors    heard    it,    and    strong 
fear 

Fell  on  them,  till  the  minstrel  sighing  went 
And  took  his  hand  in  his,  and  said,  "  The  bier 

Holds  not  thy  loved  one  yet ;  and  discontent, 
And  grief,  and  the  despair  that  hath  no  tear, 

And  hath  no  action,  ne'er  can  win  thee  back 

Thy  love  across  the  field  that  knows  no  track. 


THE  DESPAIR   OF    CUHULLIN.  89 

"  Sit  by  me  here  upon  the  poop,  and  list 

To  this  my  tale  of  one  whom,  like  thee  now, 

Misfortune,  the  dread  hag,  had  wooed  and  kissed 
And  lured  unto  her  bed,  but  whose  bright  brow 

Sunlike  arose  from  the  foul  vampire's  mist, 
As  thine  will  yet,  when,  like  my  hero,  thou, 

Not  by  weak  grief,  but  deeds  of  valor  bold, 

Shalt  win  thy  love  ! "    And  thus  his  tale  he  told  :  — 

THE  WINNING   OF   AMARAC. 

To  each  man's  heart  a  kingdom  fair  is  given : 
Mine  is  girt  round  by  lakes  and  silver  seas 

And  green  sky-piercing  mountains  thunder-riven, 
With  forests  at  their  foot  and  flowery  leas ; 

And  I  can  make  that  kingdom  hell  or  heaven 
As  the  fierce  winds  of  passion  burn  and  freeze, 

Or  the  soft  airs  of  reason  waft  life's  hours 

On  silent  wings  of  peace  through  sun  and  showers. 


90  BLANID. 


Within  my  kingdom  all  things  are  that  seem 
Before  the  Poet's  eye :  there  sunny  lands 

Outspread  in  glory  where  bright  castles  gleam 
From  hill-tops,  and  beside  the  golden  sands 

Of  fairy  lake,  or  sea,  or  singing  stream, 
Rise  palaces  wherein  the  snowy  hands 

Of  ladies  ever  young  and  fair  as  May 

Weave  garlands  for  the  knights  who  pass  the  way. 

And  there  spread  fastnesses  of  rock  and  wood 

Wherein  the  tawny  lions  ramp  and  roar, 
And  the  great  bear  stalks  by  the  sounding  flood, 
And  wild  deer  graze   the   moorlands,  and   the 

boar 

And  wolf  and  fox,  as  nature  made  their  mood, 
Come  forth  and   show  themselves,  and   forests 
hoar 

Teem  with  bright  birds  and  insects,  and  all  things 
Of  Fairy  haunt  the  brooks  and  bubbling  springs. 


THE  DESPAIR   OF   CUHULLIN.  gj 

And  oft  I  see  these  fairy  beings  pass 

Before  mine  eyes,  and  oft  they  sing  to  me 

Sweet     songs,     as     dancing     o'er     the     fragrant 

grass, 
Flower-garlanded,  in  royal  pageantry 

They  crowd  some  forest  meadow,  but,  alas  ! 
Howe'er  by  wood  or  stream  I  hear  or  see 

These  people  of  the  Sid,  in  heart  and  brain 

Only  some  echoes  of  their  songs  remain. 

I  walked  alone  within  my  kingdom  fair 

And    heard    them    singing  from    the    branchy 
side 

Of  a  wild  wood,  till  the  still  evening  air 
Pulsed  with  their  music,  and  the  silver  tide 

Of  a  young  mountain  stream  that  wimpled  there 
Forgot  its  murmuring,  and  the  carols  died 

Of  birds  beside  the  lake,  that,  listening 

As  I  did,  heard  the  Spirit  People  sing :  — 


92 


BLANID. 


"  O  where  could  we,  Spirits,  sport  in  a  hollow 

Of  vernal  beauty  so  sweet  as  this, 

Where  two  streams,  meeting,  in  laughter  kiss 
And  sing  towards  the  lake,  till  the  light  winds  follow, 

Entranced  with  their  music,  through  sun  and  shade, 
Where  flies  in  the  first  of  the  spring  the  swallow 

To  his  flower  that  waits  in  the  windy  glade  ? 

"  Here  the  doves  in  the  tall  green  pines  are  cooing, 
Here  the  linnet  sings  from  the  gorse's  gold, 
And  the  lark  soars  high  o'er  the  morning  wold, 

And  the  cuckoo  comes  at  the  year's  renewing, 
Calling  from  heaven,  '  Awake  !  awake  ! 

O  flowers  and  grass,  to  the  South-wind's  wooing 
And  the  soft  rain's  kisses  by  stream  and  lake  ! ' 

"  Here  springs  our  well  of  the  sacred  water, 

Here  droops  o'er  its  crystal  the  Rowan-Tree 

With  its  berries  red  as  the  red  lips  be 
Of  the  bright-haired  Amarac,  Fierne's  daughter, 

Who  sits  'neath  its  shadow  and  calls  and  cries, 
'  From  the  stricken  plain,  from  the  ridge  of  slaughter, 

Can  my  love  come  back  ?    Can  the  dead  arise  ? ' ' 


THE  DESPAIR   OF    CUHULLIN. 


93 


Her  love  :  —  alas  !  she  loved  a  mortal  knight 

Who    from    the     south     and     strong    Tintagel 
came, 

Singing  upon  his  harp  the  deeds  of  might 
Wrought  by  his  hand,  and  ever  seeking  fame 

With  valiant  heart  in  tourney  and  in  fight ; 
And  ladies'  smiles  and  warriors'  loud  acclaim 

Met  him  where'er  he  went,  till  one  still  morn 

He  woke  from  sleep  'neath  Fierne's  elfin  thorn. 

He  woke,  and  looking  through  the  silver  mist 
In  which  the  young  dawn  wraps  itself  enwoven 

With  films  of  gold,  saw  o'er  him  sunrise-kissed 
Tall  pinnacles  of  rock,  and,  earthquake-cloven, 

A  gorge  beneath,  a  lake  of  amethyst 

In  the  reflected  light,  with  rocks  uphoven 

Like   towers    around    its    brink,   save   where    the 
dawn 

Faced  it,  and  there  outspread  a  grassy  lawn. 


94  BLANID. 


And  on  that  lawn,  where  the  sweet  waters  speed 
Out  from  the  lake,  he  saw  the  snowy  kine 

Of  Amarac  upon  the  blossoms  feed 
In  silence,  and  beheld  the  Maid  divine 

Standing  beside  the  stream  in  golden  weed, 

Watching    the    first    red    beams    of    morn    to 
shine 

Upon  her  white-backed  herd,  when  she  and  they 

Would  fade  in  mist  from  mortal  sight  away ! 

He  looked  and  loved  ;  she  looked  and  loved  him,  too ; 

But  as  he  rose  up  from  his  grassy  bed 
To  clasp  her  to  his  burning  heart,  she  knew 

Her  father's  weird  was  on  her,  and  she  fled 
With  her  white  herd  into  the  lake  that,  blue 

Like  molten  sapphire,  in  a  moment  spread 
O'er  them,  with  mystic  echoes  sweetly  ringing 
Round   the   calm   shores !     But   hark  the  Spirits' 
singing !  — 


THE  DESPAIR   OF   CUHULLIN.  95 

"  To  the  ends  of  the  earth 

Did  the  noble  knight  wander, 
And  the  sounds  of  his  mirth 

Were  the  battle-field's  thunder, 
As  he  laughed  like  the  Morn  in  her  stormy  attire ; 
And  his  foemen  were  scattered  as  straw  in  his  ire, 
And  he  trod  on  their  necks 
And  he  clove  them  asunder 
And  consumed  them  with  fire  ! 

"  But  we  followed  him  far 

As  his  fierce  passion  bore  him, 
His  moon  and  his  star 

That  one  image  before  him  ; 
And  in  safety  he  looked  upon  war's  brazen  gleam, 
In  safety  he  slumbered  by  meadow  and  stream, 
For  we  moved  by  his  side, 
And  our  wings  fluttered  o'er  him, 
And  we  calmed  him  in  dream  ! 

"  Then  we  placed  in  his  breast 
The  black  Pearl  of  Sorrow, 
And  his  passion's  unrest 
Died  away  on  the  morrow, 


96  BLANID. 


And  we  soon  lured  him  back  to  her  mountains,  to  slake 
His  thirst  in  our  well  and  her  calm  crystal  lake, 

And  to  talk  with  his  soul 

That  its  darkness  might  borrow 
Some  light  for  her  sake  ! " 

Once  more  he  slept,  once  more  he  woke,  and  then 
Rose  from  his  grassy  couch,  and  'ncath  a  tree 

That  drooped  its  branching  glories  by  the  glen, 
Hid  himself  till  the  dawn  rose  and  the  lea 

Showed  its  sward  prankt  with  fresh  flowers,  and 

again 
Out  from  the  depths  of  that  small  crystal  sea 

The  snowy-backed  and  pink-eared  cattle  came 

With  Amarac  ene  rose  the  morn's  full  flame. 

He  stept  from  his  concealment,  and  besought 
Her  love  in  burning  words  that  brought  the  tears 

To  her  compassionate  eyes,  and  gently  wrought 
Within  her  heart  strange  yearnings  and  quick 
fears ; 


THE  DESPAIR   OF    CUHULLIN,  97 

But  soon  her  memory  stung  her,  and  distraught 
With  sorrow  for  his  mournfulness,  she  nears 
The  margent  of  the  lake,  and  with  her  kine 
Under  its  waters  hides  her  head  divine. 

He  dropt  upon  the  grass,  as  one  whom  dead 
A  lance-but  strikes  in  battle,  and  he  lay 

'Neath  the  tree's  shadow  on  the  moist  cold  bed 
Of  grass  and  flowers,  until  the  glorious  day 

Reached  the  blue  lake  from  the  bright  mountain 

head  ; 
Then  sprang  he  on  his  steed,  and  went  his  way 

Through  the  wide  world  redressing  sin  and  wrong 

With  harp  and  sword.    But  hark  the  Spirits'  song !  — 

FIRST  SPIRIT. 

"  Where  the  vapors  thicken 
Through  the  city's  ways, 
And  the  people  sicken 

In  the  poisoned  blaze 
5  c 


98  BLANID. 


Of  the  sun  that  rots  the  swamp, 
There  beside  the  failing  lamp 
Of  the  lowly  and  the  stricken 
He  hath  stood  to  cheer  and  quicken 
With  his  harp  life's  dying  rays  ! 

SECOND   SPIRIT. 

"  Where  tyrants  darkened  the  light 

In  the  hearts  of  mankind 
With  the  tortures  of  famine  and  blight 
And  the  shackles  that  bind, 
There  his  broad  pennon  streamed  to  the  wind 

And  the  weak  ones  arose  and  followed, 
And  the  strength  of  the  tyrants  melted  away, 
Like  the  blood-red  eve  of  a  stormy  day, 
In  the  jaws  of  the  battle  swallowed  ! 

FIRST  SPIRIT. 

"  He  turned  in  a  waking  dream 

From  the  home  of  the  rising  morn, 
Lured  by  her  deep  eyes'  gleam 
To  the  land  where  his  love  was  born ; 


THE    DESPAIR   OF  CUHULUN.  99 

And  no  doorway  of  joy  would  ope, 

No  cloud  from  his  soul  depart, 
Till  the  gold-bright  Pearl  of  Hope 

We  placed  o'er  his  loving  heart. 
Then  his  harp-strings  rang  by  the  river 

And  his  voice  upswelled  by  the  shore, 
Till  the  leaves  o'er  his  long  plume  quiver 

By  the  stream  and  the  lake  once  more." 

Again  he  watched  and  waited :  by  his  side 

He  held  his  gold-stringed   harp,  and   stooping 

stood 
'Neath    the    embowering    leaves    that    near    the 

tide 
Drooped    and    concealed    him,   till   the    many- 

hued 
Young  Dawn  arose,  and  ere  the  rabbit  spied 

Her  favorite  bloom-beds,  and  the  callow  brood 
Of  the  wild  duck  awoke,  upon  the  mead 
Came  Amarac  her  snowy  kine  to  feed. 


100  BLANID. 


And  now  he  touched  his  harp,  and  soft  and  low 
The  strings  spoke  to  his  fingers,  and  anear 

The  kine  drew  in  the  ever-brightening  glow 

Of    the    calm    dawn,   while    one,    unknown    to 
fear, 

The  infant  of  the  herd,  with  footsteps  slow 

Came  nigher  still,  and  stood  with  raptured  ear, 

As  if  she  ne'er  again  cared  to  behold 

The  buttercups  that  turned  her  teeth  to  gold. 

And  still  the  sweet  strings  spoke,  and  nearer  yet 
To  the  green  tree  the  large-eyed  listener  drew 

With  dainty  footsteps  that  scarce  seemed  to  fret 
From  the  young  flowers  and  grass  the  diamond 
dew. 

Then  stooped  the  player ;  down  his  harp  he  set 
Beside  the  tree,  and  from  his  ambush  flew 

And  grasped  the  bright-backed  offspring  of  the  morn 

By  one  pink  ear  and  by  one  budding  horn ! 


THE  DESPAIR   OF  CUHULLIN.  IQI 

A  hurrying  by  the  lakelet  and  a  cry ! , 

A  sparkle  in  his  eyes  !     No  more,  no  more 

He  held  his  little  captive  ;  —  with  a  sigh" 

He  turned,  and  on  the  meadow's  blossomed  floor 

His  love  stood  near  the  stream -bank  bright  and 

shy 
As  a  young  sea-gull  on  some  sunny  shore, 

And  spoke  to  him.     "  O  love  !  "  she  said,  "  O  love  ! 

O  dear  one,  well  thy  fealty  thou  dost  prove ! 

"  O  dear  beloved  one,  I  weep  for  thee, 

I  've  wept  and  weep  for  thee,  but  not  in  vain, 

And  I  will  seek  this  spot  and  hallowed  tree 

And    yearn    for    thee    and    think    of    all    thy 
pain  ! 

But  go,  beloved  ;  the  Rovers  of  the  sea 
Fasten  upon  thy  land  their  cruel  chain ; 

One  trial  more,  until  thy  land  rejoices 

At  thy  best  deed  !  "     But  hark  the  Spirit  voices  !  — 


102  BLAXID. 


FIRST    SPIRIT. 

He  went  forth  like  a  meteor  of  morning,  and  the  rocks 

felt  the  hoofs  of  his  steed, 
He  tore  through  the  fords  of  the  rivers,  and  he  furrowed 

the  swards  with  his  speed, 
And  the  lances  that  gathered  around  him  were  thick  as 

the  larches  that  shake 

In  the  broad  shaggy  woods  of  Bengara,  when  the  whirl 
wind  sweeps  down  from  the  lake  ; 
And  his  shout  was  the  cry  of  the  eagle,  and  his  charge 

was  the  shock  of  the  sea 
When  it  rolls  with  its  tide  and  its  tempest  and  swallows 

the  sands  ;  and  the  tree 
Of  his  long  spear  uplifted  his  pennon  like  the  terror  of  the 

moon  in  eclipse, 
Till  it  fluttered  in  the  winds  of  his  triumph  and  the  foemen 

fell  back  to  their  ships  ; 
But  alas  for  the  broad -barbed  arrow  and  its  swift  path  of 

woe  through  his  side, 
And  the  bowstring  of  fury  that  winged  it  ere  the  last  of 

the  red  Rovers  died  ! 

SECOND    SPIRIT. 

His  soul  soared  high  o'er  the  battle  wrack, 

But  we  hovered  around  her  and  brought  her  back, 


THE   DESPAIR   OF  CUHULLIN. 


103 


Brought  her  back  through  the  passage  narrow, 
The  bitter  road  of  the  barbed  arrow, 
And  we  opened  his  eyes,  and  he  looked  around 
On  the  ruined  things  of  the  foughten  ground, 
And  we  saw  in  his  quick-returning  sense 
His  life's  fair  purpose  and  thought  intense  ; 
And  we  scattered  the  clouds  of  his  battle-swound, 
And  we  placed  her  gift  on  his  ruddy  wound, 
Her  heart's  bright  treasure,  all  gifts  above, 
The  rose-red  Pearl  of  perfect  love  ! 


I  hear  a  horse-tramp  echoing  from  the  dell ! 

He  comes  gay  glittering  up  the  ferny  pass ! 
I  see  bright  Amarac  beside  the  well 

Trembling,  till  in  a  gleam  of  gold  and  brass 
He  leaps  from  his  strong  steed  !     Ah  !  who  can 
tell 

Their  happiness  ?     The  flowers  amid  the  grass 
Laughed  brighter,  and  the  birds  sang  by  the  shore 
To  see  these  lovers  meet  and  part  no  more ! 


IO4 


BLANID. 


"  What  think'st  thou  now,  O  mournful  one  ?    Can 
this, 

Thy  morn  of  life  unclouded  all  glide  on  ? 
See  what  things  happed  to  mar  my  hero's  bliss, 

And  how  with  hopeful  heart  he  fought  and  won, 
Won  even  his  love,  —  his  love  so  sure  to  miss, 

So  hard  to  win  !  And  now  life's  currents  run 
Against  thee,  yet  keep  high  thy  heart,  and  ne'er 
Let  black  misfortune  bring  thee  to  despair !  " 

Next  eve,  with  grateful  heart  and  farewells  kind, 
The  minstrel  southward  rode,  and  for  his  train 

Two  pages  took,  and  three  young  steeds  the  wind 
Could  not  outstrip,  three  hounds  with  bell  and 
chain, 

Three  hawks  of  Guydilod  ;  yet  in  his  mind 
A  dark  unrest  grew  and  a  secret  pain, 

Thinking  what  cureless  woes  this  love  might  bring 

To  strong  Cuhullin,  Blanid,  and  his  King! 


THE   TAKING   OF  MAN  A. 


105 


THE  TAKING   OF   MANA. 


O  AID  Mora  in  the  garden,  "  He  is  gone ! 

But  fear  thou  not,  for  in  the  hall  to-day 
As  the  great  storm  subsided,  I  asked  one 
About  thy  love  who  in  the  ambush  lay, 
And  he  replied,  '  Some  bright  God  by  the  Sun 
Sent  down  to  earth  he  seemed,  as  in  the  ray 
Of  lightning  he  rushed  through  us,  and  his  shout 
Worse   than   the   thunder   was   and   storm's  wild 
rout ! ' 
5* 


I06  BLANID. 


"What  think'st  thou  now  of  love  ?"  Then  Blanid  kept 
Her  glance  fixed  on  the  ground  awhile,  and  wrung 

Her  lovely  hands,  and  with  wild  passion  wept 
As  though  her  heart  would  burst,  but  from  her 
tongue 

No  answer  came  ;  while  Mora  nigh  her  crept 
And  kissed  her  cheek  and  said,  "  The  bards  have 
sung 

Thy  fame  throughout  the  world,  and  thinkest  thou 

That  he  '11  forget  ?  that  he  forsakes  thee  now  ? 

"  I  know  not  love,  but  yet  I  know  fond  eyes ! 

And  each  sad  morn  when  thou  from  him  didst  part, 
O  mistress  fair,  I  marked  his  tear-drops  rise 

And  his  great  bosom  heave,  and  saw  him  dart 
Sweet  glances  back  on  thee ;  and  as  for  sighs, 

He  sighed  as  doth  the  merchant  for  his  mart 
Of  jewels,  when  'mid  wrath  and  pillage  born 
The  robbers  come  and  leave  him  all  forlorn. 


THE    TAKING    OF  MAN  A.  107 

• 

"  Who  sighs  like  him  will  ne'er  his  love  desert, 
But,  like  my  brother,  when  his  bride  he  sought, 

The  fair  Brigantian,  Nera  ;  —  as  thou  wert 

These   days    she   was,  she   loved   him,   till    she 
brought 

Upon  his  head  her  father's  ire  ;  —  begirt 

For  war  my  brother  sailed  the  sea  and  fought 

For  love  and  Nera,  and  with  sword  and  fire 

And  fifty  galleys  reft  her  from  her  sire. 

"  So  he  will  come  and  take  thee,  and  when  I, 
In  other  days,  shall  grow  to  womanhood, 

Some  lovely  lord  with  heart  and  courage  high 
May  spread  his  sails  and  plough  the  salty  flood 

And  win  me  for  his  bride,  and  when  I  die 

May  weep  for  me  ! "     Then  up  the  bright  one 
stood, 

Folding  the  Chatterer  in  her  fondling  arms, 

Half  comforted  and  cured  of  love's  alarms. 


108  BLANID. 


And  still  increased  her  fame :  on  winged  feet 
Rumor  danced   round   the  world  with  cap  and 
bells, 

Jangling  his  foolish  music  wild  and  sweet 

All  in  her  praise,  from  courts  where  empire  dwells 

In  glory,  to  the  babbling  village  street, 

Casting  o'er  all  a  glamour  of  strange  spells, 

Till  no  man's  head  or  heart  or  soul  was  free, 

And  the  world  bound  in  love's  strong  slavery. 

Then  rose  throughout  the  lands  a  threatening  hum, 
Man's  savage  growl  to  taste  forbidden  fruit, 

And  those  who  in  her  presence  erst  were  dumb, 
Or  wooed  her  with  sweet  songs  of  harp  and  lute, 

Now  set  their  passions  free,  —  grew  venturesome 
With    bloody   sword   and   spear   to   press    their 
suit, 

And  leagued  and  schemed  till  their  invading  sails 

Shadowed  the  deep  and  swallowed  all  the  gales. 


THE   TAKING   OF   MANA. 


109 


And  like  thick  flocks  of  gulls  that  from  afar 

Strain  landward  in  white  myriads  when  the  storms 

Out  on  the  ocean  wage  their  thundering  war, 
From   northern   coasts   the   slant   sun   scarcely 
warms, 

From  east  and  west,  from  'neath  the  southern  star, 
From  continent  and  sea-beat  isle,  in  swarms, 

With  sails  spread  wide  and  pennons  flying  gay, 

The  mustering  ships  thronged  bright  Dun  Dalgan's 
bay/' 

From  far  Hispanian  mountain  crests  that  lower 

Over  the  wallowing  bay  of  Biscany, 
Batanjos  came  with  all  his  vassal  power 

In  twelve  long  galleys  laboring  up  the  sea, 
His  prow  a  Wolf,  his  ensign  a  high  Tower, 

His  men  in  armor  glittering  barbarously  ; 
Fierce  were  their  looks  and  savage  was  their  speech 
Like  growling  of  wild  waves  on  Lora's  beach. 


1 10  BLANID. 


Next  from  strong  Gallia's  shores  Toutillos  came 
Whose  conquering  sword  oft  crossed  the  Roman 
blade. 

The  heart  that  throbbed  within  his  mighty  frame 
Was  love-sick  now  at  thought  of  that  fair  maid ; 

His  followers  trod  the  decks  with  eyes  of  flame, 
And  flashing  arms,  and  heavy  helms  arrayed 

With  head-skins  of  great  beasts  whose  gorgon  look 

The  weak  beholder's  heart  with  terror  shook. 

From  where  the  Sea  Ploughers  bored  the  glistening 
sod 

For  ores  by  toppling  crags  of  Cornuaille, 
Stout  Penon  came  with  ensign  flying  broad 

And  gilded  pine-tree  mast  and  silken  sail 
Phoenician-like  ;  the,  lord  of  Guydilod, 

Mathonwy,  in  his  plumes  and  painted  mail, 
Across  the  tumbling  waves  behind  him  bore 
With  seven  tall  ships  from  wild  Brigantia's  shore. 


THE   TAKING   OF   MANA. 


Like  a  fierce  sea-hawk  from  its  savage  nest, 
Down  from  the  woody  shores  of  Caledon, 

Dara  was  there  in  ruffling  tartans  drest 
With  shining  eagle  plumes  his  helm*  upon  ; 

With  him  five  chiefs  the  self-same  amorous  quest 
Sought  from  their  windy  homes  where  billows 
run 

With  ceaseless  clamor  loud  before  the  breeze 

Of  Orkney  and  the  wave-worn  Hebrides. 

From  stern  Norwegian  valleys,  well  bedight 
In  armor  of  stout  bull-hide  studded  o'er 

With  scale  of  brass  and  boss  of  silver  bright, 
Tall    Broder   came   with    nine    ships,   and    the 
shore 

Resounded  like  strong  thunder  in  the  night, 
As  his  fierce  followers  with  loud  uproar 

Leaped  from  the  bulwarks  knee-deep  in  the  wave, 

And  to  the  strand  in  long  lines  shouting  drave. 


112  BLANID. 


And  Erin  sent  her  lords  and  chiefs  of  pride, 

Their    valiant    hearts    by    love's    enchantment 
led, 

From  coasts  where  morn  salutes  Kilmantan's  side, 
To  Mizzen  and  Kinsala's  ancient  head ; 

From  west  and  north,  to  where  with  sunset  dyed, 
Ben  Borka  seeks  the  stars  o'er  ocean's  bed, 

And  inland  from  the  mighty  flood  that  drains 

Heberian  hills  and  Heremonian  plains. 

Now  on  the  gathered  ships  slow  fell  the  night, 
And  the  sky  oped  o'er  earth  her  jewelled  page, 

And  in  Dun  Dalgan's  hall  of  festive  light 

The  thronging  warriors  met  for  council  sage  ; 

Over  their  heads  the  white  lamps  glittered  bright 
On   arms    that   oft   had   stemmed    the    battle's 
rage, 

On  brazen  harnesses  and  helms  of  gold 

And  flags  and  trophies  of  the  days  of  old. 


THE    TAKING   OF   MAN  A. 


And  fast  the  goblets  flowed,  and  clear  and  sweet 
The  minstrels  on  their  harps  began  to  play, 

While  heroic  poems'  flowing  rhythmic  feet 

Danced  from  their  mouths,  and  many  a  shorter 

lay 

Of  love  was  sung  with  heavenly  joy  would  greet 

The  dullest  ear,  till  in  his  bright  array 
Of  war  upstood  the  Gaul,  Toutillos  strong, 
And  thus  in  soldier's  words  addressed  the  throng :  — 

"  Comrades !  some  hero  must  command  this  quest 
Over  us  all  for  high  achievement  good, 

Some  man  of  wondrous  soul  whom  all  the  rest 
Can   follow,   and,   if    fate   wills,   wade   through 
blood 

For  honor  and  for  love  ;  and  in  my  breast 
On  the  high  place  one  hero  long  hath  stood, 

Brjghter  than  all  by  fame's  effulgence  lit, 

Cuhullin,  in  whose  bannered  hall  we  sit ! " 

u 


BLANID. 


Then  turned  he  to  Dun  Dalgan's  lord.     "To  thee, 

Strongest  of  heroes,  prince  of  high  renown, 
And  topmost  flower  of  valor's  stately  tree, 

I  give  my  voice,  and  droop  my  pennon  down  ; 

\ 
Her  father  was  thy  dead  sire's  enemy, 

Then   do   thou   lead,   and  bright    success   shall 

crown 

Our  enterprise  ! "     And  through  the  echoing  hall 
Assent  the  heroes  shouted  one  and  all. 

Now  stately  rose  Cuhullin  :  "  O  brave  peers, 
I  may  not  say  ye  nay,  the  more  that  I 

Have  seen  her,  that  these  glad,  enraptured  ears 
Heard  her  delightful  voice  in  days  gone  by  ; 

But  ere  we  win  her,  many  a  grove  of  spears 

And    many   a    man    and    cloven    shield    shall 
lie 

Along  the  smoking  breaches  as  we  cross 

With  victor  feet  her  castle's  circling  fosse  1 " 


THE   TAKING   OF   MAN  A.  115 

And  so  it  fell  that  ere  the  jewels  red 

That    deck    Dawn's    golden     sandals     lit     the 

sky, 
Raising  the  anchors  from  their  oozy  bed 

The  sailors  their  strong  cables  'gan  to  ply. 
And  as  the  sun  upraised  his  burning  head 

Over  the  bulging  waves,  afar  and  nigh, 
Scattered  along  the  breezy  waters  free, 
The  great  fleet  sailed  for  Mana  of  the  Sea. 

Deep  in  a  vale  the  Hold  of  Mana  stood, 

Where  many  a  dell  with  falling  streamlets  rang, 

Where  trees  their  blossomy  raiments   from  each 

wood  « 

Flaunted,  and  all  day  long  the  wild-birds  sang; 

Yet  not  so  far  from  Ocean's  restless  flood 

But  one  might  smell  the  salt  and  hear  the  clang 

Of  sea-birds  and  the  muffled  sound  of  waves 

Rumbling  in  hollow  thunder  through  the  caves. 


1 16  BLANID. 


Far  other  sounds  that  castle  soon  shall  hear 

Than    songs   of   birds   and    murmurs   of   sweet 
streams, 

From  iron  rams'  rock-splintering,  ponderous  gear, 
From  catapults'  loud-clashing  chains  and  beams  ; 

Yet  little  does  the  old  King  fret  or  fear, 

But  sits  from  day  to  day  like  one  in  dreams 

Of  great  exploits  and  actions  to  be  done 

When  the  strong  leaguer  draws  his  hold  upon. 

What  should  he  fear  within  his  lordly  hold, 
Through  middle  air  by  magic  might  uphurled, 

Built  by  his  foresire,  Mananan,  of  old, 
A  wonder  and  a  glory  to  the  world  ? 

Three  giant  walls  its  broad  girth  did  enfold, 

Three     shining     fosses     like     great     serpents 
curled 

Between  them,  by  three  brazen  bridges  spanned, 

With  brazen  gates  wrought  by  no  earthly  hand. 


THE    TAKING   OF   MAN  A. 


'Tween  the  two  outward  fosses  and  high  walls 
Laughing  in  light  the  lovely  garden  spread, 

One  fair  expanse  of  bloom,  with  waterfalls 
And  singing  runnels  from  the  fountain  fed  ; 

There  lived  no  noisome  thing  that  creeps  or  crawls, 
There  glad  birds  sang  with  notes  would  wake 
the  dead, 

And  flowers  of  every  clime  and  every  hue 

In  nurtured  bed  or  glade  of  wildness  grew. 

High  o'er  the  towered  walls  twelve  faces  bright 
To  the  green  woods  that  castle  did  display, 

Whereon  the  figures  of  the  Months  were  dight 
With  cunning  art  in  wonderful  array ;  — 

There  was  chill  January  clad  in  white, 
And  February  sullen,  cold  and  gray, 

And  March  would   through    the   budding   green 
woods  go, 

A  blustering  boy  with  bright  face  all  aglow. 


BLANID. 


There  April  stepped  the  daisied  pastures  through 
In  azure  gown  with  girlish  smile  most  sweet, 

Pale  pansies,  primroses,  and  violets  blue 
Sprang  up  where'er  she  set  her  dainty  feet ; 

And    May,    her     laughing    sister,  —  seemed     she 

flew 
Over  the  spangled  meads  in  joy  to  greet 

Bright  June,  the  lovely  queen  of  all  the  flowers, 

Enthroned  amid  her  ever-blooming  bowers. 

And  there  was  strong  July,  the  lusty  swain, 

Knee-deep  amidst  the  new-mown  meadow  grass, 

And  August,  jolly  farmer,  on  his  wain 
Of  golden  corn  by  orchards  ripe  did  pass, 

One  hand  upon  the  poppy-wreathed  rein, 

One    beckoning   to   a    brown-cheeked    country 
lass, 

Buxom  September,  bright-eyed,  rose-lipped,  clad 

In  russet  not  too  gay  and  not  too  sad. 


THE    TAKING   OF   MAN  A.  119 

Next  like  the  remnant  of  a  kingly  man 

October  'mid  the  brown  woods  brooding  came  ; 

Him  followed,  as  though  'neath  some  withering  ban, 
November  sour,  a  wrinkled  spitfire  dame, 

Then  he  whose  steps  had  reached  life's  farthest 

span, 
Hoary  December,  wheezing,  hobbling,  lame, 

Bent  double  o'er  his  crutch  and  very  lean, 

And  all  but  dead  from  palsy,  pains,  and  spleen  ! 

High  towering  o'er  these  wondrous  imageries 
Shot  up  a  world  of  gilded  dome  and  vane, 

Pinnet  and  fretted  roof,  like  phantasies 

That   run   at   full    moon    through   a   madman's 
brain ; 

And  could  you  through  its  crystal  galleries 

And  golden  halls  and  bowers  hear  fitting  strain, 

One  long-drawn  dream  of  glory  none  could  tell 

» 
Would  hold  you  many  an  hour  beneath  its  spell ! 


120  BLANID. 


Within  the  garden  on  the  fragrant  grass 

Sat  Blanid  with  her  bower-maid  at  the  noon 

Of  a  still  day,  and  made  the  fond  hours  pass 
With  talk  of  love,  the  ever-living  boon 

Of  the  almighty  Gods,  that  yet,  alas! 

Oft  treads  upon  our  souls  with  angry  shoon  ; 

And  Blanid  said,  "  I  know,  howe'er  it  be, 

That  some  great  horror  now  approacheth  me ! 

"  Rumor  is  busy  now,  and  tells  his  tale 

This  way  and  that,  how  'cross  the  heaving  brine 

For  Mana's  shore  each  ship  of  war  doth  sail 
That  e'er  was  built ;  and  what  joy  can  be  mine, 

Well  knowing  that  ev'n  here  shall  rise  our  wail 
Some   day   for    my   sire's    loss,   that   we    shall 
pine 

Captives   of   some   dread   lord  whose   looks   shall 
lower 

And  slay  us  as  the  east  wind  slays  the  flower  ? " 


THE   TAKING   OF   MANA.  121 

"  What  fearest  thou,"  said  Mora,  "  of  thy  doom  ? 

The  minstrels  sing  thy  lover's  praises  loud  ; 
One    look   from    his    kind    eyes   will    chase   the 
gloom 

That  chills  thy  heart.     Remember  ye  are  vowed 
Soul  unto  soul  forever.     He  will  come, 

And,  like  the  royal  eagle  from  the  cloud 
'Midst  little  hawks  contending  for  the  prey, 
He  '11  swoop  and  bear  thee  to  his  home  away ! " 

But  nathless  Blanid  wept,  and  in  her  grief 

Asked    for    the    lute,   and    said,    "To    yonder 
dell 

Go  thou  and  bring  me  dewy  flower  and  leaf 
Of  roses,  that  unwitnessed  I  may  tell 

Some  thoughts  unto  my  love,  for  no  reprief 
My  heart  lias  in  his  absence  !  "     By  the  well 

She  sat  alone,  her  blue  eyes  rilled  with  tears, 

And  sang  unto  her  love  her  hopes  and  fears  :  — 
6 


I22  BLANW. 


SONG. 

"  I  walk  in  dreams  'mid  heavenly  hills, 
I  hear  the  music  of  their  rills, 
Their  wild-birds  sing,  their  zephyrs  play, 
In  greenwoods  of  eternal  May. 

"  I  see  their  morn  and  sunset  gleams 
Far  glittering  over  lakes  and  streams, 
Where  happy  spirits  born  to  love 
Disport  by  fragrant  bank  and  grove. 

"  Amidst  those  spirits  everywhere, 
By  lake  and  stream  and  forest  fair, 
With  gladsome  heart,  with  sweet  surprise, 
I  see  thee  and  thy  smiling  eyes. 

"  And  as  I  feel  thy  radiant  glance, 
My  fears  retreat,  my  hopes  advance, 
The  hemlock,  grief,  hath  lost  its  bane, 
The  rose  of  joy  is  mine  again. 

"  Then  oh  !  perchance  these  visions  come 
As  messengers  from  some  fair  home, 
Some  world  of  bliss  and  constancy 
Bright  after  death  for  you  and  me  ! " 


THE   TAKING   OF  MAN  A.  123 

"  O  love !  O  love  !  "  she  cried,  "  couldst  thou  stand 
by  us 

On  the  dark  day  of  doom  that  comes  so  fast, 
In  glorious  wage  of  war  the  world  might  try  us 

And  reap  defeat  and  ruin,  and,  aghast 
With  terror  at  thy  hand  of  valor,  fly  us, 

But  ah  !  my  sire,  relentless  to  the  last ! 
He  will  not  see  my  tears,  or  hear  thy  suit, 
But  thirsts  for  vengeance  and  war's  bitter  fruit ! " 

By  this  young  Mora  from  the  dell  of  flowers 

Came  with  one  hand  beneath  her  robe,  and  said, 

"  I  Ve  roamed  and  searched  around  the  white-rose 

bowers 
But  found  none  fit  for  thee,  nor  through  the  red  : 

At  last  I  reached  a  sward  of  sun  and  showers 
Whereshone  these  lovely  blooms  I  broughtinstead, 

These  gems  that  deck  the  garden's  fairy  spots, 

Wild  hyacinths  and  sweet  forget-me-nots." 


124  BLANID. 


And  then  she  bared  her  nimble  hand  and  laughed, 
And,  holding  up  the  flowers,  said,  "  Here  they 
are  ! 

These  blue-bells,  in  the  gentle  poet's  craft 
Emblems  of  constancy,  and,  dearer  far, 

These  beautiful  forget-me-nots  that  quaffed 
The  cool  dew  when  the  blinking  morning  star 

Rose  o'er  the  hill !     Here,  take  them,  and  be  sure 

As  that  thou  'It  kiss  them  his  love  will  endure  ! " 

And  Blanid  took  the  flowers  and  in  their  bloom 
Buried  her  rosy  mouth.     "  Ah  !  well  I  see," 

Then  Mora  cried,  "  how  thy  bright  eyes  illume 
One  for  remembrance,  one  for  constancy ! 

But  sit  thee  down.     No  more  of  grief  and  gloom  ! 
Give  me  the  lute  and  I  will  sine:  to  thee 

o 

The  song  that  Tiernan  made  for  me  and  taught 

me 
With  the  first  bright  forget-me-nots  he  brought  me! 


THE   TAKING   OF   MANA.  125 


FORGET    ME    NOT. 

"  The  East  Wind  sprang  into  a  lovely  place, 
And  cried,  '  I  '11  slay  the  flowers  and  leave  no  trace 

Of  all  their  blooming  in  this  happy  spot ! ' 
And,  as  before  his  breath  the  sweet  flowers  died, 
One  little  bright-eyed  blossom  moaned  and  cried, 

1 0  woods  !  forget  me  not !  forget  me  not ! 

"  '  O  woods  of  waving  trees  !     O  living  streams  ! 
In  all  your  noontide  joys  and  starry  dreams, 

Let  me,  for  love,  let  me  be  unforgot ! 
O  birds  that  sing  your  carols  while  I  die, 
O  list  to  me  !     O  hear  my  piteous  cry  ! 

Forget  me  not  !  alas  !  forget  me  not ! ' 

"  And  the  Gods  heard  her  plaint  and  swept  away 
The  bitter-fanged,  strong  East  Wind  from  his  prey, 

And  smiled  upon  the  flower  and  changed  her  lot, 
So  now  that,  as  we  mark  her  azure  leaf, 
We  think  of  life  and  love  and  parting  grief, 

And  sigh,  *  Forget  me  not !  forget  me  not ! ' ' 


126  BLANID. 


And  thus  the  hours  were  passed,  while  to  their  shore 
Over  the  waters  wide  the  ships  drew  near, 

Propelled  by  favoring  wind  and  sturdy  oar 

And  thronged  with  valiant  hearts  that  knew  not 
fear, 

Plying,  as  to  some  stricken  field  of  gore 

The  prey-birds  haste  from  rocks  and  deserts  drear, 

With  hungry  eyes  and  eager  wings  outspread, 

To  raven  and  to  batten  on  the  dead ! 

'Mongst  wonders  told  by  hardy  sailor  folk 
Who  from  hot  climes  their  way  of  peril  win, 

Some  monstrous  spider,  just  as  morn  has  broke, 
O'er  a  cave's  mouth  his  treacherous  web  doth 
spin, 

To  wrap  round  robber  wasps  the  fatal  yoke, 
And  flies  and  gilded  gnats  to  catch  therein, 

So  sat  the  old  King  in  his  halls  and  planned 

Death  to  the  coming  raiders  of  his  land ! 


THE    TAKING   OF   MANA.  127 

At  length  it  happed  that,  as  one  morn  he  chose 
To  view  his  manned  walls,  with  sour  look  and 
fell 

He  saw  the  glancing  banners  of  his  foes 
Rising  and  falling  with  the  ocean  swell 

Over  the  bay,  and,  as  next  morn  arose, 

From   clouds   of  dust  that  choked   the    forest 
dell 

Flashed  hostile  sword  and  helm  and  bright  cuirass 

And  many  an  iron  spear  and  shield  of  brass ! 

And  like  some  orient  grove  that  all  in  bloom 
Nods  its  tall  blossoms  to  the  swaying  breeze, 

With  myriad  mantles  gay,  with  crest  and  plume, 
With  fluttering  flags  and  war's  best  braveries, 

Emerging  from  the  dusky  valley's  womb, 
From  forest  path  and  pass,  his  enemies 

Over  the  open  meads,  far  shining,  wound, 

Encompassing  his  stronghold  round  and  round  ! 


128  BLANID. 


Ere  the  hot  sun  had  set,  their  ordered  camp, 
White  tent  and  silk  pavilion,  gleamed  like  gold 

Smit  by  his  rays,  and  tramp  re-echoed  tramp 
Of  sentinels  around  the  glittering  wold ; 

And  on  the  castle  walls,  when  rose  night's  lamp, 
Her  silvery  rays  glimmered  with  radiance  cold 

On    swords    and    spear-points    thick    as    autumn 
corn 

Ready  for  fight  and  waiting  for  the  morn. 

And  when  the  next  sun's  life-inspiring  rays 

Smote  the  moist  meads  and  dried  the  pearly  dew, 

A  herald,  his  gay  tabard  all  ablaze 

With   broideries   rich,    slow   toward    the    castle 
drew 

And  halted  nigh  the  fosse,  his  fearless  gaze 
Bent  on  the  foe  awhile ;  then  shrilly  blew 

His  trumpeter  three  warning  blasts,  and  then 

He  spoke  his  message  unto  Mana's  men. 


THE    TAKING   OF   MAN  A.  129 

Prompt  to  the  message  came  the  thundering  clang 
Of  a  great  arblast's  chain,  and  then  down  bore 

A  bolt  that   through   the  bright  air  whizzed  and 

sang, 
And  nigh  their  feet  the  sunny  greensward  tore ;  — 

High  o'er  the  grass  the  trumpeter  upsprang 
And  turned  his  back  and  fled  in  panic  sore, 

The  haughty  herald  pacing  slow  behind 

With  stately  step  and  unperturbed  mind ! 

Whereat,  along  the  weapon-bristling  walls  ' 

Pealed  a  great  laugh  that  made  the  valleys  ring, 

And  from  the  camp  uprose  the  captains'  calls, 
With  clash  of  arms  and  noise  of  marshalling, 

Till  from  the  forest's  sunny  intervals 

Out  rushed  the  hosts  in  long  lines  glittering, 

With  shout   and   threatening  clang,  and   many  a 
note 

Defiant  from  the  trumpet's  brazen  throat. 
6*  i 


130 


BLANID. 


Then  javelins  sang  their  death-songs  as  they  flew 
With    sharp,   shrill  clangor  swift    from  foes  to 
foes, 

And  clouds  of  feathered  darts  obscured  the  blue, 
Huge  engines  thundered  and  great  cries  arose  ; 

And  louder  and  more  wild  the  clamor  grew, 
As  when  a  storm  at  morn  begins  and  blows 

With  gathering  fury,  till,  ere  night's  dull  shade, 

The  tall  trees  of  the  forest  low  are  laid. 

So  fought  they,  till  the  broad  fosse  deep  and  calm 
Was  bridged  with  dead,  and  o'er  that  weapon-gored 

And  ghastly  ridge,  the  incessant  thundering  ram 
A  yawning  breach  through  the  outward  ballium 
bored : 

Then  towering  o'er  his  men,  as  towers  a  palm 
O'er  the  tall  forest-trees,  Dun  Dalgan's  lord 

Shouted  his  battle-cry,  and  with  firm  tread 

The  fierce  assault  o'er  the  red  ruin  led. 


THE    TAKING.  OF  MAN  A.  131 

High  were  their  valiant  hearts  as  they  rushed  in 
And  planked  the  second  fosse  with  small  delay, 

Haling  between  them  the  remorseless  gin 

That  through  the  second  ballium  tore  its  way; 

Then  rose  above  the  high  walls  such  a  din 
As  thunder  makes,  when  on  an  autumn  day 

The  trembling  wanderer  hears  its  earthquake  tone 

Rattling  behind  the  ridgy  hills  of  stone. 

Hard  fought  the  heroes  in  that  bold  attack 

With  all  that  men  could  do  of  bravery : 
Twice  were  they  driven  the  bloody  breaches  back, 
Thrice  inward   drave  as    rolls  Toth's   plunging 

sea 
'Tween  Skerry's  Rocks,  and  with  hearts  nothing 

slack 

Of  valiance,  breast  to  breast,  and  knee  to  knee, 
Fighting  they  held  the  vantage  they  had  won, 
Till  on  the  turmoil  sank  the  blood-red  sun. 


132 


BLANID. 


As  a  young  vestal  with  the  sacred  flame 

Lights  the  gemmed  arches  of  some  temple  dome, 

The  moon  from  pearl-bright  bowers  then  upward 

came, 
Flooding  the  heavens  with  light  as  on  she  clomb : 

On  hills  and  lakes  and  woods  she  writ  her  name, 
Queen  of  repose,  and  her  calm  smilesbrought  home 

Quiet  to  marshalled  camp  and  guarded  hold, 

Till  Morn  awoke  and  shook  her  locks  of  gold. 

Then  rose  again  the  clang,  the  shout,  the  cry 
Of  war  from  inward  fosse  and  outward  pale, 

And  fast  again  the  arrowy  showers  did  fly 

From  twanging  bows  thick  as  the  rattling  hail 

From  thundering  cloud  and  lightning-litten  sky, 
And  shields  were  split,  and    riven    breast    and 
mail 

Gave  forth  the  souls  of  heroes,  till  the  night 

Lowered  o'er  the  woods,  and  still  the  clamorous  fight 


THE    TAKING   OF  MANA.  133 

Raged  round  the  castle  with  redoubled  roar 

Through  all  the  long  and  lonesome  hours  of  dark, 

As  roll  Moyle's  wallowing  billows  on  the  shore 
Mixed  with  the  mariners'  cries  ;  and  still  their 
mark 

The  axe  and  red  glaive  made  of  steaming  gore 
On  many  a  hero's  front,  until  the  lark 

Sang  his  thin  song  from  heavenly  meadows  sweet 

Bright  with  the  radiance  of  Dawn's  rosy  feet. 

And  still  the  battle  raged.     Of  great  deeds  done 
By  strong  Toutillos,  Penon,  and  their  peers 

What  need  to  tell  ?     How  Mana's  heroes  won 
High  names  of  bright  renown  for  after  years  ; 

How  from  the  clashing  catapults  out  spun 

The  whizzing  bolts  through  groves  of  splintering 
spears, 

Till  the  hot  noon,  when  th'  inner  ballium  broke 

Before  the  cruel  ram's  earth-shaking  stroke. 


134 


BLANID. 


Then,  as  Dun  Dalgan's  lord  prepared  to  cross, 
Beside  the  breach  rose  an  unearthly  sound 

From  a  huge  wheel  gray  with  ten  centuries'  moss 
That  now  'gan  turning  slowly  round  and  round, 

Until  the  weeds  and  waters  of  the  fosse 

With  ever-growing  speed  it  churned  and  ground, 

While   round   the   echoing   walls    the   watchword 
ran 

Of  "  Gaily  speed  thy  wheel,  O  Mananan  ! " 

For  there  'twas  set  in  ages  long  gone  by 

By  Mananan,  the  Ruler  of  the  sea, 
With  many  a  magic  rite  the  wall  anigh, 

Better  than  stone  a  triple  fence  to  be, 
And  thus  within  they  raised  their  triumph  cry 

To  Mananan,  and  clashed  their  shields  in  glee 
To  see  the  wheel's  tremendous  vans  below 
Smite   the    red     fosse    with    many    a     sounding 
blow  ;  — 


THE   TAKING   OF  MAN  A.  135 

To  see  the  broad  fosse  once  as  smooth  as  glass 
Driven  in  a  tide  no  mortal  power  could  stay, 

That   almost   choked    the    shuddering    bridge    of 

brass 

With    whirling     watery     torrents     white    with 
spray ! 

It  was  a. stream  no  living  wight  could  pass, 
And  thus,  as  smote  the  sun's  retiring  ray 

In  red  effulgence  upon  land  and  main 

The  heroes  met  for  council  once  again. 

\ 
With  fierce  eyes  full  of  baffled  rage  and  care 

And  burning  heart  each  hero  told  his  need, 
Till  all  had  spoken,  yet  no  man  would  dare 

•  To  tempt  the  magic  tide's  devouring  speed  ; 
Then  'midst  them  suddenly  were  they  aware 

Of  a  tall  warrior  clad  in  brazen  weed, 
Whose  voice  from  out  his  hollow  helmet  broke 
Like  a  strong  torrent's  rumbling  as  he  spoke :  — 


136  BLANID. 


"  O  valiant  ones  !   the  yawning  breach  is  red 

With    many   a   brave    man's    blood,    but   all   in 
vain, 

For  o'er  the  whirling  moat  may  no  man  tread, 
The  castle's  shield  of  safety  and  your  bane ! 

Yet  here  am  I,  and  by  my  father's  head, 
And  by  the  Sun  and  Wind,  I  swear  to  gain 

Your  passage  to  the  hold,  if  you  decree 

The  brightest  jewel  there  my  choice  to  be ! 

"  See    ye    this   magic    spear  ?     With    its    strong 
aid 

Can  we  alone  the  castle  overthrow ; 
By  a  great  Danaan  smith  of  old  'twas  made 

With  many  a  potent  spell  against  the  foe 
And  one  against  its  master  : — when  its  blade 

Is  raised  to  strike,  and  strikes  not  a  sure  blow, 
Stayed  by  one  thrill  of  fear,  it  hath  the  charm 
To  wither  for  a  moon  the  coward  arm. 


THE   TAKING   OF   MAN  A. 


"  Then  first  at  morn  when  the  red  sunbeams  spring 
O'er  the  whale's  restless  home,  again  fall  on, 

For  I  would  hear  the  bolts  of  iron  swing 

From   the   strong  arblasts,  and  the  shout   and 
groan 

Of  heroes,  and  the  rattling  javelins  ring 

On  the  hard  mail,  and  crash  of  falling  stone 

From  the  high  walls  the  earth  around  me  shake, 

To  swell  this  heart  such  deed  to  undertake ! " 

And  so  it  was :  and  as  the  earth  was  dight 
By  the  glad  Morn  in  robes  of  pearl  and  gold, 

The  great  sun's  eye  unblinking  saw  the  fight 
Rage  once  again  around  that  stubborn  hold : 

And    myriad     deeds    were     done    of     matchless 

might 
In  that  stern  fray,  and  myriad  heroes  bold 

Slept  the  long  glorious  slumber  of  the  brave 

Beneath  their  earthen  mounds  by  Mana's  wave. 


1 38  BLANID. 


There  many  a  man's  dim  closing  eye  was  cast 
In   wonder   at   the   strange   Knight's  glittering 
form, 

His  spear-shaft  sloped,  like  a  tall  galley's  mast 
Bent  slantwise  by  the  buffets  of  the  storm, 

As  with  grim  frowning  brows  and  footsteps  fast 
Along  the  breach  with  heroes'  heart-blood  warm, 

'Mid  showers  of  bolts  and  darts,  like  Crom  the  God 

Of  Thunder,  toward  the  magic  wheel  he  trod. 

Now  paused   he  for  a   space   and   looked,  when, 
lo! 

Between  him  and  the  fosse  erstwhile  so  near, 
There  spread  a  stricken  war-field,  where  the  glow 

Fell  lurid  upon  broken  sword  and  spear ; 
And  from  a  reedy  marsh  a  javelin's  throw 

Upon  his  right  crept  forth  a  thing  of  fear, 
A  serpent  vast,  with  crested  head,  and  coils 
Would  crush  ten  battle  chargers.  Like  the  spoils 


THE    TAKING   OF  MANA. 


139 


Of  a  great  city  gleamed  his  spotted  back 

As  from  the  trembling  reeds  his  volumes  rolled, 

Wide  spread,  approaching  o'er  the  tangled  wrack 
Of  battle,  his  bright  head  now  flashing  gold, 

Now  red,  now  green,  now  sapphire.     On  his  track 
The  hero  stood  in  wrath,  and  with  firm  hold 

Raised  high  the  spear  that  from  his  right  hand  sped 

Down  crashing  through  the  monster's  burnished 
head. 

As  he  plucked  forth  his  spear  and  still  strode  on, 
Out  from  behind  a  heap  of  slain  there  rose 

A   dreadful   beast   with   eyes   that    gleamed    and 

shone 
In  fury,  like  the  eyes  of  one  of  those 

Twin  Dragons  of  the  Strife  that  ever  run 
Beside  the  feet  of  Bava  when  she  goes 

From  the  bright  Mount  of  Monad  with  the  brand 

Of  war  far  flaring  in  her  armed  hand. 


140  BLANID. 


So  flashed  the  beast's  wild  eyes,  while  o'er  the  dead 
He  rushed  to  meet  his  foe ;  as  he  drew  nigh 

Uprose  the  glittering  shaft  and  spear-point  dread 
And    then  shot  forth,  and  'mid    the  fire-bright 
eye 

Pierced  him  through  brain  and  body,  on  the  bed 
Of  war  transfixing  him  ;  then  rising  high 

The  hero  loosed  his  spear,  and  'mid  the  slain 

Left  him  still  writhing,  and  strode  forth  again. 

And,  as  he  went,  there  rose  at  every  rood 
Some  monster  dire  his  onward  course  to  stay 

To  the  dread  wheel,  but  through  the  demon  brood 
He  fearless  broke,  until  before  him  lay 

A  river  whirling  by  of  streaming  blood. 

Shouting  he   plunged    therein,   and    made    his 
way 

Up  the  far  bank,  and  raising  high  his  spear 

Strode  onward  still  across  that  field  of  fear. 


THE   TAKING   OF  MANA. 


141 


Then    rose    from    off    the    blood-stained    fern    a 
shape 

Tall,  threatening,  with  a  crown  upon  his  head, 
Bright  clad  in  gold  and  brass  from  heel  to  nape 

Of  sturdy  neck,  and  with  a  mantle  red 
Wind-blown,  that  let  the  dazzling  flashes  'scape 

Of  the  strong  mail,  as  now  with  onward  tread 
He  strode,  and  raised  his  giant  arm  in  wrath, 
To  the  great  wheel  to  stop  the  hero's  path  ;  — 

The  hero  who,  now  pausing,  looked,  and  there 
Under  the  crown  saw  his  dead  father's  face 

Approaching  with  fell  frowning,  ghastly  stare 
Against  him :  yet  no  whit  the  hero's  pace 

Was  checked  thereat ;  —  on  high  his  spear  he  bare 
And  pierced  the  Phantom's  breast,  and  all  the 
place 

Was  empty  now,  and  by  the  fosse's  marge 

He  felt  the  mortal  arrows  smite  his  targe. 


142 


BLAN1D. 


Then  stood  he  like  a  tower  and  poised  his  spear, 
And  lightning-like  the  fateful  weapon  flung, 

And  lodged  it  in  the  wheel's  loud-roaring  gear, 
Firm  fixed   in   the   huge   plank  whereon   'twas 
hung;  — 

No  more  the  fosse  whirled  round  with  tide  of  fear, 
No  more  the  magic  engine  thundering  rung : 

Still  as  a  frozen  mill-wheel  now  it  lay, 

And  through  the  last  breach  open  was  the  way. 

No  minstrel's  tongue,  or  taught  in  heaven  or  hell, 
Whate'er  of  pearls  of  price  his  harp  adorn, 

Howe'er  his  fingers  touch  the  strings,  could  tell 
The  great  deeds  done  upon  that  far-famed  morn  ; 

How  amid  heaps  of  slain  the  old  King  fell, 

How  to  the  wood  the  Bloom-bright  One  forlorn 

And  her  fair  maids  were  brought  forth  from  the 
hold, 

With  all  the  treasures  of  bright  gems  and  gold. 


THE   TEARS  OF  BLANID.  143 


THE   TEARS   OF   BLANID. 


'T^HERE  spread  a  lovely  glade  all  cool  and  still 

Three  javelin  casts  beyond  the  outer  wall, 
Where  bloomed  their  seasons  wild-rose,  daffodil, 

Fresh  daisy,  hyacinth,  and  foxglove  tall, 
And  many  another  flower  at  Nature's  will : 

And   there   she   stood,  the  sweetest  flower   of 

all, 

The  Bloom-bright  One,  that  eve,  her  maids  amid, 
The  glory  of  her  eyes  by  tears  half  hid. 


144 


BLANID. 


There  in  barbaric  splendor  o'er  the  green 

Were   strewn   the   spoils  from   stubborn    Mana 
won, 

Broad  golden  bowls  up-filled  with  sapphires  sheen 
And  diamonds  that  once  in  beauty  shone 

On  brow  of  Indian  maid,  or  dusky  queen 

Of  realms  that  burn  'neath  Afric's  blinding  sun, 

And  chalices  with  pearls  filled  to  the  lips, 

Brought  thitherward  by  wandering  Tyrian  ships. 

And  there  gleamed  piles  of  linked  armor  gay, 
And  helms  with  crests  that  shone  like  yellow 
fire, 

And  plumes  of  that  strange  bird  old  legends  say 
Springs  to  new  life  from  its  own  burning  pyre, 

And  wondrous  bucklers  brought  from  far  Cathay, 
And  bright  stuffs  from  the  golden  looms  of  Tyre, 

Baldricks  and  gilded  torques  and  costly  rings, 

And  jewelled  swords  fit  for  the  sons  of  kings, 


THE   TEARS  OF  BLANW. 


145 


And  drinking  cups  with  carven  slender  stems, 
Dishes  of  gold,  and  fairy  baskets  wrought 

Of  pearl  and  silver  filled  with  emerald  gems 
Whose  least  would  make  ten  misers'  souls  dis 
traught, 

And  opals  upon  quaint  old  diadems, 

And  rubies  on  huge  crowns  of  splendor  brought 

By  Mananan  from  many  a  royal  head 

Of  kingdoms  by  the  sea  long  swallowed. 

Now  on  them  from  the  reddening  western  skies 
The  sun  shone  and  a  blaze  of  glory  made, 

Ten  thousand  gnats  and  glistering  dragon-flies 
And  glowing  moths  seemed  circling  round  the 
glade, 

And  lizards'  backs  and  myriad  serpents'  eyes 
Tremulous  to  gleam  by  fern  and  grassy  blade, 

And  all  men  wondered  as  they  stood  around 

To  see  such  treasures  spread  on  mortal  ground. 
7  J 


I46  B  LAN  ID. 


Amid  these  priceless  hoards  young  Blanid  stood 
With  all  her  lovely  bower-maids  weeping  sore, 

Her  cloak  fallen  at  her  feet,  her  Tyrian  hood 

Thrown  back,  her  gown's  blue  radiance  rippled  o'er 

By  her  bright  silken  hair,  a  tawny  flood 

That  almost  reached  the  smooth  glade's  emerald 
floor, 

Where  glanced  the  white  pearls  on  herbroidered  shoon 

Like  silver-glistening  dew-drops  'neath  the  moon. 

And  round  the  glade,  leaning  on  their  long  spears, 
Stood  the  great  knights,  the  marrers  of  her  mirth, 

Who  looked  on  her  as  though  with  doubts   and 

fears 
That  her  bright  beauty  had  no  mortal  birth  ; 

For,  nathless  her  keen  sorrow  and  her  tears, 
The  red  of  all  the  roses  of  the  earth 

Seemed  on  her  lips,  and  in  her  eyes  the  blue 

Of  all  the  violets  that  since  Adam  grew. 


THE    TEARS  OF   BLANID. 


147 


Advanced  beyond  the  throng  and  towering  high 
Stood   he   whose   might    the   magic    wheel   did 
tame, 

With  spear  in  hand,  the  lightning  of  his  eye 
From  his  barred  helmet  glinting  like  a  flame, 

As  drew  Dun  Dalgan's  mighty  lord  anigh 

And  spoke  aloud  :  4<  O  knight  without  a  name, 

To  whom  we  owe  the  castle's  mastery, 

Choose  now  thy  jewel,  whatsoe'er  it  be ! " 

Then  strode  he  forth  and  laid  his  armed  hand 
Upon  the  shrinking  shoulder  of  the  maid  :  — 

"  I  choose,"  he  said,  "  this  flower  of  all  the  land, 
This  priceless  gem  in  beauty's  garb  arrayed ; 

And  if  there  be  amongst  this  soldier  band 
A  lord  or  prince  of  honor  so  unstaid 

As  now  to  say  me  nay,  then  I  stand  here 

To   prove    my   well-won    right   with    shield    and 
•  spear!" 


,48  BLANID. 


There  fell  a  surly  silence  on  the  throng, 

And  all  their  valiant  hearts  grew  cold  as  stone, 

Their  knightly  promise  pledged,  or  right  or  wrong, 
To  make  the  loveliest  jewel  there  his  own  ; 

Wistful  they  stood  and  grieved,  until  erelong 
Burst  from  their  laboring  breasts  a  bitter  groan 

Like   the   hoarse   grumbling   of    the   storm's   last 
breeze 

Dying  amid  the  sturdy  forest-trees. 

What  recked  they  now  of  gems  and  stores  of  gold 
But  as  poor  gauds  worthless  in  all  men's  eyes, 

As  from  their  midst  they  saw  the  hero  bold 

Through  the  green  glades  bear  off  the  glorious 
prize, 

With  her  bower-maids,  her  foster-mother  old, 
And  a  stout  varlet  of  her  house  ?     The  skies 

Darkened  apace,  and  the  sun  left  them  there 

Dumb  as  the  hollow  night  in  their  despair. 


THE   TEARS  OF  BLANID. 


149 


The  moon  and  stars  shone  bright  on  Mana's  bay, 
The  winds  were  still,  the  drowsy  sailors  slept, 

And  all  the  mighty  fleet  in  silence  lay, 

When  from  the  shadow  that  the  huge  rocks  kept 

Over  a  little  inlet  bore  away 

The  galley  of  the  Nameless  Knight,  and  swept, 

With  brawny  arms  and  hands  to  ply  the  oar, 

Towards    Borka's    blue-bright    peaks   from    Mana 
shore. 

Over  its  royal  deck  were  all  things  strewn 

Fit  for  his  weeping  prize  to  rest  upon, 
Gemmed  seats  carved  o'er  with  many  an  ancient  rune, 

Footstools,  Ulidian  webs  of  saffron  lawn, 
Thick  cloths  of  gold,  the  Persian's  gorgeous  boon, 
.     Gay  Tyrian  shawls  that  with  strange  brilliance 

shone, 

And  Norland  furs,  and  tawny  lions'  hides 
From  the  brown  burning  tracts  that  Nile  divides. 


150 


BLA.VID. 


Amidst  them  in  her  tameless  agony 

Prone   on    the   deck   long   lay  the    Bright    One 

low, 
And  yet  no  sighs  would  come  her  breast  to  free, 

No  tears  to  lighten  her  sad  weight  of  woe  ; 
At  length  she  sat  her  up,  and  piteously 

Crept  nigh  her  foster  dame,  and  to  and  fro 
Rocked  herself,  moaning  like  a  wounded  hind 
In  a  wild  forest  far  from  all  mankind ! 

Then  Mora  crept  anigh.     "  O  child  and  friend  !  " 
Said  Blanid,  "  now  our  night  of  life's  begun, 

Our  misery  without  a  change  or  end  ;  — 

Where  now  are  those  kind  Gods  whose  smiles 
we  won 

With  prayers  ?     Where  now  to  shelter  and  defend 
The  helpless  ?    While  our  hearts'  sad  currents  run, 

No1  more,  no  more  they  '11  smile  on  us,  and  give 

The  sweet  joys  back  that  made  life  worth  to  live ! 


THE   TEARS  OF   BLANID.  151 

"  No  more,  no  more  my  father's  face  we  '11  see, 
Smiling  farewell  at  night ;  alas  !  no  more 

Shall  his  fond  arms  of  love  be  clasped  round  me 
For  morning's  welcome  ;  in  the  breach  of  gore 

He  lies  with  stiffened  hand,  the  enemy 

In  piles  around  him  heaped,  his  banner  tore, 

His  bright  sword  broken,  and  his  nobles  all 

Stretched  stark  beside  him   o'er  red  breach  and 
wall. 

"  And  my  beloved  one,  who  with  my  sire 

Shared  all  my  heart,  woe,  woe  for  me  and  him ! 

No  more  where  laughs  the  foxglove's  gay  attire 
By  the  woodside  we  '11  meet.     Destruction  grim 

Hath  plunged  my  native  land  in  war's  hot  mire 
Of  blood  !      And  now  her  fading  shores  grow 
dim  ! "  - 

And  down  the  Bright  One  fell,  and,  lying  prone, 

Kept  muttering  to  herself  her  parting  moan  :  — 


152  BLAi\ID. 


"  Farewell  to  thee,  Mana  beloved  ! 

Forlorn  as  thou  art ! 
Too  well  was  thy  valiance  proved, 

Dear  home  of  my  heart  ! 
No  more  shall  thy  halls  of  glory 

Sound  to  the  harp  and  flute ; 
Still,  still  is  the  minstrel's  story, 

And  the  voice  of  the  bard  is  mute. 

"  Farewell  to  thee,  Mana  beloved  ! 

Alas  !  and  alas  ! 
Where  the  feet  of  my  girlhood  roved, 

From  the  tangled  grass 
In  my  desolate  place  of  roses 

The  grim,  gray  wolf  doth  whine, 
And  the  bat  'mid  the  leaves  reposes 

In  the  bowers  that  once  were  mine. 

"  Farewell  to  thee,  Mana  beloved  ! 

To  thy  guest-halls  bright, 
Where  the  fingers  of  minstrels  moved 

Unto  sounds  of  delight ! 
Farewell  to  thy  vale  and  forest, 

Thy  cincture  of  sea-waves  green, 
And  the  mantle  of  joy  thou  worest 

In  the  happy  days  that  have  been  ! " 


'THE   TEARS  OF   BLANID. 


153 


Again  crept  Mora  to  her,  whispering, 

"  What  ails  thee,  dearest  ?     Raise  thy  heart  and 

cry 
Unto  the  Gods  !     Perchance  thy  voice  will  bring 

Upon  our  hapless  state  their  kindly  eye ! 
Bethink  thee  of  the  fair  ones  whom  the  wing 

Of  fortune  flapped  in  anger !     Did  they  die 
In  their  first  black  despondency  ?     Ah,  no  ! 
They  lived  to  see  joy  ending  all  their  woe ! 

"  Think  of  fair  Etain's  fortunate  return 

To  her  fond  lover's  arms  from  Midir's  land, 

Of  young  Fingalla  and  the  Fairy  Urn, 
Of  Enna  on  the  Sea  isle,  and  of  Fand, 

The    princess    who   made    many   a    brave    heart 

burn, 
Neim,  Fea,  and  Fininda  of  the  strand,  — 

She  lived  to  see  her  sorrows  pass  away 

And  marry  three  good  husbands  in  her  day  ! 
7* 


BLANID. 


"  Arise,  O  darling  of  my  heart !  arise  ! 

A  mother  I  will  prove  to  thee  erelong 
Far  better  than  thy  foster-dame,  though  wise 

Tenfold  she  looks  there  by  the  bulwark  strong 
Sitting  and  gazing  on  us !     Lift  thine  eyes 

And  kiss  me,  dearest !     Woe  and  bitter  wrong 
May    crush    thee,    yet,    than    me,    thou  'It    never 

find 
A  mother,  sister,  friend,  more  fond  and  kind  !  " 

But  still  no  softening  tears  her  eyes  would  bless, 
Till  rose  a  light  wind  on  the  silver  sea 

Singing  amidst  the  sails  :  then  her  distress 
Seemed  as  a  thing  far  off,  and  dreamily 

All  things  grew  mixed,  as  in  her  weariness 

She    laid    her    bright    head    on    her   fosterer's 
knee 

And  slept  till  morning  broke,  then  up  she  sat 

And  moaned  again,  but  yet  no  comfort  gat 


THE    TEARS   OF   BLANID. 


And  merrily  hummed  its  song  the  galley's  prore 
As  fast  it  clave  the  blue  sea's  glassy  plain, 

And  through  a  winding  inlet  neared  a  shore 

Whose   sunny  woods    smelt   fresh  from    recent 
rain. 

Thereon  they  disembarked  ;  then  seaward  bore 
The  lordly  galley  o'er  the  waves  again, 

Till  far  away  sank  down  its  tall  mast's  stem, 

And  left  the  Nameless  Knight  alone  with  them. 

There  spread  a  lovely  bank  'twixt  wave  and  wood 
Prankt  o'er  with  sea-pink  and  blue  violet, 

And  there  she  sat  a  space  in  vacant  mood 

And  saw  the  flowers  with  hard  eyes   still  un- 
wet  ; 

Then  a  fond  memory  came  and  brought  the  blood 
Into  her  cheeks,  and  then  a  fierce  regret 

For  her  lost  home  and  all  her  happy  years 

Burned  in  her  heart,  but  yet  she  shed  no  tears  ! 


56 


BLANID. 


Like  to  a  startled,  mournful  mountain  erne 
That  sees  its  only  fledgling  droop  and  die, 

And    flaps    her    wings    and    screams    along    the 

fern, 
The  foster-dame  looked  in  that  haggard  eye 

With  melting  mother's  heart  that  sore  did  yearn, 
Then  clapped  her  hands  and  raised  a  woful  cry 

Of  sorrow,  as  one  wails  above  the  dead, 

But  still  no  answering  tears  young  Blanid  shed  ! 

Whereat  the  great  Knight  smote  his  sounding  shield 
With    deafening    clang,    and    raised    his   voice 
aloud, 

And  from  the  shelter  of  the  leafy  weald 

A  tall  squire  led  a  war-horse  prancing  proud 

With  brass-shod  hoofs  adown  the  flowery  field, 
And  head-plumes  glancing  like  a  tawny  cloud, 

And  jangling  rein  and  red  caparison, 

And  glittering  selle  a  King  might  sit  upon. 


THE   TEARS  OF  BLANID.  157 

And  after  him  another  squire  there  came 
Leading  an  ambling  palfrey  white  as  snow, 

Fit  for  some  princess  or  imperial  dame,  — 
With  arched  neck  and  stately  pace  and  slow, 

With  many  a  gem  its  bridle  bright  aflame, 
With  pearls  of  price  its  saddle  all  aglow, 

Its  housings  azure  silks  and  cloth  of  gold, 

A  wonder  and  heart -gladness  to  behold  ! 

Then  other  squires  came  forth  with  many  steeds, 
Varlets  with  sumpter  mules,  and  everything 

That    thirst    might    yearn    for,    or    that    hunger 

needs, 
In  depths  of  woods  and  far-off  journeying  ; 

And   soon   the   bank's   green    grass    and   flowery 

weeds 
Smelt  of  the  sweet  repast,  and  in  a  ring 

Sat  they  around,  maids,  foster-dame,  and  squire, 

And  feasted  there  to  each  one's  heart's  desire, 


i58 


BLANID. 


Save  the  bright  Maid.     Listless  and  sad  she  ate 
Her  bitter  crust  without  a  sob  or  sigh, 

As  one  who  dreams  some  doom  all  desolate 

Holds  her  in  thrall  she   knows    not   where    or 
why; 

Then  strong  Ferkertne  took  his  harp  and  sate 
Before  her,  and  awoke  with  fervor  high 

A  melody  would  raise  one  from  the  tomb 

To  melt  her  heart,  but  yet  no  tears  would  come ! 

Whereat  Ferkertne  whispered,  "  O  thou  flower 
Of  constant  womanhood,  another  strain 

May   strike    thy   heart !      One    day   in   wildwood 

bower 
I  heard  the  man  thou  lovest  sore  complain, 

Singing  to  thee,  as  though  by  some  God's  power 
Thou  wert  beside  him,  while  beyond  the  main 

In  Mana's  halls  thou  wert !     His  words  I'll  sing 

To  ope  thy  laden  heart,  thy  tears  to  bring :  — 


THE   TEARS  OF  BLANID. 


SONG. 

"  When  the  winds  in  the  wood  are  still, 
And  the  lake  sleeps  calm  in  the  hollow, 

And  the  moon  pours  over  the  hill 
Her  light  upon  glade  and  tree, 

I  sit  by  the  sparkling  rill 

And  my  thoughts  the  fleet  waves  follow 
Like  the  flight  of  the  early  swallow 

To  the  summer  of  love  and  thee. 

"  In  the  sapphire  and  rose  of  dawn 

When  the  lark  from  his  nest  is  springing, 

And  the  dappled  deer  and  the  fawn 

Come  down  to  the  wood-stream's  shore, 

I  stand  on  the  dew-bright  lawn, 
And  list  to  the  skylark's  singing, 
And  think  of  thy  sweet  voice  bringing 

Its  thrill  to  my  heart  once  more. 

"  When  the  west  is  purple  and  red 
With  the  glory  of  sunset  dying, 
And  the  waves  to  the  sky  outspread 
In  the  tremulous  splendors  burn, 


160  BLANID. 


I  stray  by  the  ocean  bed, 

The  sea-birds  around  me  flying, 
And  think  in  my  sadness,  sighing, 

Of  the  hours  that  will  ne'er  return. 

"  In  the  flight  of  the  winged  hour, 

In  the  changing  of  moon  and  season, 

The  seed  upsprings  in  the  flower, 

And  the  flower  'neath  the  cold  blast  dies  :  - 

There  is  change  in  tlie  Sun-God's  power, 
There  is  death  in  the  wind's  unreason,  — 
In  a  woman's  heart  is  there  treason  ? 

Is  there  falsehood  in  woman's  eyes  ? 

"  I  prayed  to  the  Gods  at  noon 

That  thou  wouldst  not  hate  or  fear  me,  — 
I  asked  of  the  Gods  a  boon 

And  they  answered  mine  eager  cry, 
For  a  Voice  in  the  wind  of  June 

It  answered  that  thou  dost  hear  me, 

That  thou  in  thy  thoughts  art  near  me 
However  the  hours  flit  by  !  " 


THE   TEARS  OF  BLANID.  161 

Still  stubborn  sat  the  Bright  One,  into  space 

Looking   as   though   some   dreadful   shape    up- 
sprang 

Before  her,  blotting  out  the  sunny  place 

With  its  black  shadow  as  the  minstrel  sang ; 

Then  hid  she  'tween  her  hands  her  troubled  face, 
Stricken  like  orchard  flowers  that  listless  hang 

When  the  frosts  come  and  th'  East's  pernicious  wind 

Blows  on  their  bloom  and  leaves  no  life  behind ! 

But  when  the  war-horse  pranced  with  joyous  neigh 

Of  pleasure  at  the  moving  melody, 
Up  sat  she,  looking  on  his  harness  gay, 

And  mused  awhile,  and  then  fond  memory 
Brought  back   to   her   bruised    heart    the    happy 
day, 

When  'mid  the  forest's  sunny  glades  and  free 
Rode  up  her  heart's  beloved  on  such  a  steed 
And  slew  the  great  bull  in  her  hour  of  need. 


1 62  BLANID. 


Then,  as  an  April  morn  awakes  all  red 

With  blushes  bright,  to  end  in  glistening  showers, 

The  crimson  from  her  heart  her  cheeks  o'erspread, 
Her  breast  heaved,  and  she  dropt  amid  the  flowers 

And  swooned  awhile,  then  woke  and  raised  her 

head, 
Like  the  young  Moon  within  her  silver  bowers. 

And  torn  with  grief  and  racked  with  many  fears, 

She  wept  but  got  no  comfort  from  her  tears ! 

Then  heavy  trouble  fell  on  Ferkertne, 

He  knew  not  why,  but  as  he  gazed  on  her 

Strange  voices  whispered  to  him,  "  Thou  art  he 
That  lovest  her  the  best ! "  and  thoughts  would 
stir 

Within  his  brain  and  through  his  strong  heart  flee, 
Shaking  him  as  the  hill-wind  shakes  the  fir, 

As  mournfully  he  sat  there  till  the  sound 

And  bustling  for  departure  echoed  round. 


THE   TEARS  OF   BLANID. 


Soon  mounted  they,  and  'mid  the  forest  green 
Went  downward  through   the  breezy  perfumed 
dells, 

And  sweetly  the  strong-towering  trunks  between 
Came  back  the  tinkling  of  the  palfrey's  bells 

On  the  light  wind,  while  flashed  the  sunlight  sheen 
From  spears  and  swords  and  fluttering  pennoncels 

And  caps  and  plumes  and  braveries  golden  gay, 

Till  through  the  wild-woods  south  they  passed  away. 


1 64  BLANID. 


THE   HUNTING   OF   THE   WOLF   OF 
BIERNA. 


LOVE  !  O  love !     Ofttimes  a  bitter  guest, 

Ofttimes  a  golden  joy  without  a  stain, 
Lord  of  hard  grief,  of  anger  and  unrest, 

Gift-giver  of  bright  pleasure  after  pain  ; 
O  thou  whose  breath  warmeth  the  hardened  breast 
As  wintry  frosts  by  spring's  sweet  winds  and 

rain, 

There 's  blood  upon  thine  arrows  warm  and  red  ! 
And  why  art  thou  with  vengeance  still  unfed  ? 


HUNTING   OF  THE  WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     165 

For  where  erstwhile  thy  sunny  garden  grew 
A  pleasaunce  of  delight  naught  seemed  to  chill, 

Decked  with  all  flowers  that  ever  drank  the  dew, 
Vocal  with  bird  and  breeze  and  singing  rill, 

Now  nothing  meets  thy  mournful  victim's  view 
But    desert    sand   and    rock   and   fierce-browed 
hill,  - 

Naked  and  grim,  with  clouds  of  gloom  o'erspread 

Pouring  misfortune's  rain  upon  his  head ! 

i 

With  heart  forlorn  his  galley's  deck  he  trode 
And  sailed  the  sea  to  high  Dun  Dalgan's  hall ; 

Nor  long  within  its  chambers  he  abode, 

But   with    sweet   hopes    all    changed   to   bitter 
gall, 

And  sorrow  darkening  his  lonely  road, 

He  sought  the  hills,  that  song  of  waterfall 

And  breeze  within  the  wood  and  wild-birds'  strain 

Might  wake  to  gladness  his  sad  heart  again. 


1 66  BLANID. 


But  though  the  wild-birds  sang  their  sweetest  lays, 
Though  all   the  forest  flowers  bloomed  in  their 
prime, 

And  the  sweet  winds  beneath  the  summer  rays 
Played  'mid  the  whispering   leaves  their  lulling 
chime, 

Though  many  a  brooklet  down  the  greenwood  maze 
Danced  in  blithe  gladness,  yet  nor  change  nor  time 

Could  end  his  care  or  lighten  his  sad  woe, 

Howe'er  the  birds  might  sing  or  breezes  blow! 

One  day  as  he  rode  downward  through  a  glen 
Whose  sparkling  stream  made  music  as  he  sped, 

He  came  on  hurrying  groups  of  armed  men 
Marching  along  the  winding  path  that  led 

Around  a  rock-encircled  gloomy  fen 
Unto  a  village  green,  whereon,  adread 

Of  something  strange  they  halted,  each  one's  hand 

Grasping  with  nervous  grip  the  spear  or  brand. 


HUNTING   OF   THE    WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     167 

And  there  the  priests  were  from  the  neighboring 
shrine, 

The  villagers  around  them,  young  and  old, 
Who,  when  they  saw  Cuhullin's  harness  shine 

Anear  them  with  its  links  of  brass  and  gold, 
Knew  him  for  their  own  prince,  and  as  strong  wine 

Makes  the  faint-hearted  ofttimes  overbold, 
His  presence  raised  their  hearts,  and  boisterously 
They  shouted  like  the  roaring  of  the  sea. 

Then   one   came   nigh   and   said,   "  O  prince  and 
lord 

Of  this  our  land  and  home,  the  Gods  at  last 
Take  pity  on  our  state,  with  one  accord 

Sending  thee  to  us,  and  our  woe  is  past 
When  thou,  O  hero  !  helpest.     By  the  ford 

Of  Bierna,  where  the  black  flood  hurries  fast 
Out  of  the  fen,  there  dwells  a  monster  dire 
Whose  wrath  consumes  us  like  a  forest  fire ! 


1 68  BLANID. 


And  how  he  came  we  know  not,  but  one  day 
The  birds  sat  still  in  garden,  grove,  and  wood, 

Till    the   dark   night   fell,   then   each   branch   and 

spray 
Resounded  with  a  weird,  alarming  flood 

Of  music  from  their  throats ;  and  when  the  gray 
Of  Morn  came,  a  great  storm-cloud  red  as  blood 

Rose  in  the  east,  and  down  the  glen  there  bore 

Seven  ravens  with  their  long  beaks  dripping  gore. 

And  then  the  storm  came  rending  sky  and  earth, 
And  a  thick  darkness  with  it,  and  the  flame 

Of  lightning  split  in  its  demoniac  mirth 

Yon    sacred    tree,    and    from    the    ford    there 
came 

Roaring  a  monstrous  wolf,  that  ne'er  had  birth 
Save  from  the  nether  Gods  without  a  name, 

And  into  my  fair  brother's  cottage  burst 

And  slew  him,  child  and  wife,  with  jaws  accurst ! 


HUNTING   OF  THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     169 

And  since  each  night  he  rushes  from  his  lair, 
Slaying   both   child   and  man ;    and  shield  and 

spear 
Seem  naught  against  him,  and  the  young  and  fair 

Sweet  morsels  are  to  him,  and  thus  we  fear, 
O  prince !  his  vengeance  fell,  though  trembling  care 

Will  leave  our  doubting  hearts  now  thou  art  here 
To  rid  us  of  the  pest ;  but  hark  the  moan 
Of  the  bereaved  ones  for  their  joys  o'erthrown ! " 


FIRST  PRIEST. 

The  Pest  of  the  Fiends  hath  won  us, 

The  Bringer  of  woe  is  nigh, 
No  friendly  Gods  smile  on  us, 

Or  list  to  our  wail  and  cry  ! 
Our  word  is  the  foam  that  flashes 

Down  the  torrent,  to  fade  and  pass, 
Our  prayers  are  but  dust  and  ashes, 

Our  wish  is  the  withered  grass  ! 
8 


I/O 


BLANID. 


SECOND   PRIEST. 

He  was  born  by  the  fen's  black  mirror, 

The  offspring  of  Doom  and  Hate, 
He  was  cradled  in  the  cave  of  Terror, 

And  nursed  at  the  dugs  of  Fate  ! 
We  chatter  with  fear,  like  sparrows 

When  the  adder  stirs  by  the  wall, 
For  our  threats  are  as  pointless  arrows 

'Gainst  the  thews  of  his  strength  to  fall  j 
And  we  pray  with  the  hate  hate  nurses 

Till  our  vision  with  rage  is  dim, 
And  our  mouths  foam  over  with  curses 

To  wither  him,  heart  and  limb ; 
But  some  fiend  of  the  fiends  hath  fenced  him, 

Hath  strengthened  him,  fang  and  claw, 
And  our  curses  are  naught  against  him, 

And  our  prayers  are  but  chaff  and  straw  ! 

CHIEF   OF  THE   VILLAGE. 

My  son  in  the  throngs  of  the  valiant  was  valiant  where 

cowered  the  brave, 
He  grew  like  the  shaft  of  the  pine-tree  that  towers  by 

Beraran's  dark  wave ; 


HUNTING   OF   THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA. 


171 


On  the  ridge  of  the  fore-front  of  battle,  like  the  moon 

through  the  dust  shone  his  targe, 
And  the    prince    of   the   land  was  his    comrade,  as  his 

long  spear  came  up  to  the  charge  ! 
No  more  will  he  follow  his  lord  to  the  conquest  of  isles 

and  of  coasts, 
No  more  where  the  firm  earth  is  shaken  by  the  shout  and 

the  charging  of  hosts 
'Gainst  his  shield  will  the  javelins  clatter,  or  the  light 

arrows  whirr  through  his  plume, 
For  his  bones  strew  the  black  ford  of  Bierna,  and  his 

flesh  feeds  the  fierce  Thing  of  doom  ! 

FIRST    MOTHER. 

As  a  bud  in  a  land  of  roses 

My  little  one  grew, 
As  the  violet  Morn  uncloses, 

His  eyes  of  blue  ; 
As  the  harps  'neath  the  golden  rafter 

Of  the  King  with  the  flutes  combine, 
Was  the  voice  of  his  silvery  laughter 

To  this  desolate  heart  of  mine  ! 


BLANID. 


Alas  for  the  tender  blossom 

Of  bloom  and  light ! 
Alas  for  the  mother's  bosom 

That  once  was  bright ! 
The  brook  in  the  woodland  dances, 

The  sunbeams  shimmer  and  burn, 
But  the  rapture  of  my  love's  glances 

Will  ne'er  to  my  heart  return  ! 


SECOND   MOTHER. 

As  a  twig  of  the  catkined  willow 

My  loved  one  bloomed  at  my  side, 
She  was  pure  as  the  moon's  white  pillow 

Of  cloud  o'er  the  ocean  tide  ; 
She  was  winsome  and  bright  and  bonny 

As  the  lily  by  Bana's  lake, 
She  was  sweet  as  the  sweet  wild  honey 

The  bees  in  the  gold  moss  make  ; 
Her  mouth  was  a  rose  unfolden 

With  the  glory  of  morning  smit, 


HUNTING   OF   THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA. 


173 


Her  hair  as  the  corn  was  golden 

By  the  tawn  of  the  Autumn  lit : 
Her  voice  was  the  throstle's  singing 

At  even  from  Lora's  bowers, 
Her  breath  was  the  wood-breeze  bringing 

The  joy  of  unnumbered  flowers  ; 
But  alas  !  and  alas  !  that  never 

Again  will  her  hand  clasp  mine  ! 
Alas  for  the  fateful  Riever  ! 

And  woe  for  the  Wrath  divine  ! 


Then   thronged   they   round   the   hero    and    they 
cried, 

"  Deliverer,  by  the  good  Gods  sent !     O  thou 
That  comest  in  the  glory  and  the  pride 

Of  thy  young  manhood,  with  thy  sunlike  brow 
Beaming  on  us  the  look  that  never  lied 

Of  hope  and  comfort,  in  thy  valiance  now 
Strike  for  us  !     Strike !  and  rid  us  of  the  Pest 
Hurled  on  us  by  the  nether  Gods  unblest !  " 


174  BLANID. 


Then  called  the  hero  to  him  a  young  man 
Who  sat  a  strong  gray  horse  and  held  a  spear 

In  his  firm  grasp.     "  The  winds  this  morn  that  ran 
Over  the  fen  where  dwells  this  thing  of  fear 

Not  swifter  sped  than  thou  must  scour  the  span 
'Tween   this  and  high  Dun  Dalgan,  and  bring 
here 

Lia  Macha  from  her  brazen  stall,  and  him, 

Barana  of  the  light  and  powerful  limb ! 

"  Bring  hither  the  three  giants  ta'en  by  me 
The  day  we  plundered  Mana  for  my  spoil, 

With  their  three  brazen  flails,  and  Aranie, 

My    Poet,    and     the     three     hounds,    Dil    and 
Goil 

And  Brena,  and  the  Skimmer  of  the  meads, 
Loy  the  strong  charioteer,  and  in  the  toil 

Of  the  loud  roaring  chase,  or  in  his  den, 

We  '11  meet  and  slay  this  monster  of  the  fen !  " 


HUNTING   OF  THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     175 

Away  the  young  man  sped,  and  loud  again 
Cuhullin  cried,  "  Go  to  your  homes  and  sleep 

The  sleep  of  safety ;  and  I  too  am  fain 

To  slumber  !     Let  this  old  man  watch,  and  weep 

Beside  me  for  his  son  till  on  the  plain 

Eve's  shadows  fall ;  then  I  will  rise  and  keep 

Watch  for  you  through  the  night  with  spear  and 
sword 

'Gainst  the  dread  Fiend  by  Bierna's  gloomy  ford ! " 

With  that  he  sprang  from  off  his  horse,  and  lay 
Under  the  riven  tree,  and  closed  his  eyes 

In  slumber,  while  the  old  man  sat  all  day 

Wringing  his  hands  and  moaning  with  low  cries 

For  his  dead  son,  till  when  the  twilight  gray 

Crept   round   the    hills    and   from    the    golden 
skies 

The  sun  went  down,  he  cried,  "  O  hero,  wake ! 

And  watch  by  blood-stained  Bierna  for  our  sake  !  " 


176  BLANID. 


And  all  that  night  he  watched  before  the  cave 
Of  Bierna,  by  the  black  ford,  and  anon 

Taunted  the  Fiend  within,  and  three  times  drave 
His  horse  half  'cross  the  ford,  and  three  times 
spun 

His  spear  into  the  air  and  caught  its  stave 
Shouting  as  it  came  down,  and  when  the  sun 

In  pink  and  saffron  robed  the  rising  morn 

He  heard  from  th'  eastern  hill-gap  Loy's  blithe  horn. 

Then  back  unto  the  village  green  he  sped 
And  waited,  but  not  long,  till  from  the  wood 

Came  Loy  and  Aranie,  and  with  them  led 
Lia  Macha  and  Barana,  and  the  brood 

Of  Shrang,  the  three  great  hounds,  black,  tawn,  and 

red, 
Brena  and  Dil  and  Goil,  and  those  that  stood 

Like  three  strong  towers,  the  giants  that  he  won 

In  Mana  when  the  gory  sack  was  done. 


HUNTING   OF  THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA. 


There  stood  they  with  their  brazen  flails  and  smiled 
With  joy  to  meet  their  master,  while  around 

The  three  great  dogs  of  chase  in  circles  wild 

Scampered  with  gladness  o'er  the  smooth  green 
ground, 

And  loud  Barana  whinnied  when  the  mild 
Kind  accents  of  his  master  with  sweet  sound 

Fell  on  his  ears,  and  eager  for  the  fight 

Lia  Macha  neighed  and  shook  her  trappings  bright. 

Then  cried  he  to  the  villagers  once  more, 
"  Go  to  your  homes,  and,  shut  therein,  abide 

Praying  unto  the  Gods,  while  to  the  shore 
Of  the  black  fen  I  and  my  people  ride 

To  rid  you  of  the  Pest ;  and  where  before 

You  groaned  in  dull  despair,  the  welcome  tide 

Of    joy   may   flood   your   hearts!"  —  and   off    he 
rode 

With  his  stout  following  for  the  Fiend's  abode. 
8*  L 


178  BLANID. 


There  leapt  he  from  Lia  Macha  where  the  fen 
Spewed  out  its  sullen  flood,  and  with  a  look 

Of  import  dread  he  eyed  the  monster's  den, 
And,  raising  high  his  spear,  its  shaft  he  shook 

Defiant ;  then  advanced  the  giant  men 

With    their    bright    brazen     flails     across     the 
brook, 

Shouting  in  tones  whereat  the  rugged  hills 

Trembled  with  all  their  forests,  lakes,  and  rills ! 

Before  the  den  there  rose  a  savage  brake 

Of  copse  and  woven  wood  of  thorn,  wherethrough 

No  man  could  rush,  and  there,  a  path  to  make, 
Around    the    giants'    heads     the     bright    flails 
flew  ; 

And  as  strong  husbandmen  with  scythes  that  take 
The  meadow  grass  and  all  its  glories  strew 

Around  them,  with  their  flashing  flails  of  wrath 

Up  to  the  den  they  mowed  their  master's  path. 


HUNTING   OF   THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA. 


1/9 


Then  laughing  they  returned  across  the  stream, 
And  pointed  to  the  cave,  wherefrom  the  eyes 

Of  the  dread  Monster  blazed,  as  like  a  dream 
Of  terror  he  lay  crouched,  his  demon  size 

Half  filling  the  dark  cavern.     As  a  beam 
Of  sunlight  darting  or  the  bolt  that  flies 

O'er     the    flat     meadow    from     the     storm-cloud 
sent 

Cuhullin  'cross  the  ford  now  rushing  went, 

And  leapt  upon  the  bank  with  armed  feet, 
Nimble,  and  up  the  path  of  beaten  sedge 

Left  by  the  giants'  flails,  strong,  fierce,  and  fleet 
He  rushed,  keen  looking  o'er  his  targe's  edge 

On    the    huge    wolf    that    now   sprang    forth    to 

meet 
His  coming  like  the  falling  of  a  ledge 

In  Barna,  mixing  as  he  thundered  out 

His  howling  with  the  hero's  mighty  shout. 


l8o  BLANID. 


'Gainst  the  great  shield  he  struck,  and,  as  a  wave 
That  plunges  from  the  firm  sea-rock,  aside 

Glanced  from  the  graven  disk,  and,  bounding,  clave 
With  his  strong  breast  the  black  ford's  muddy 
tide  ; 

Then  up  the  other  bank  through  blow  of  glaive 
And  lash  of  flail  and  dart  of  javelin  tried 

In  many  a  fray,  he  rushed,  and  headlong  sped 

Down  the  broad  track  that  to  the  village  led. 

And  after  him  with  dreadful  clash  and  clang 

Cuhullin  rode,  swift  Loy  and  Aranie 
At  his  left  arm,  and  loud  their  harness  rang 

As  their  fleet-footed  steeds  swept  down  the  lea 
On   the   wolfs   furious    track,    that    growled    and 
sprang 

Before  them,  past  the  lightning-riven  tree, 
Under  thick  dust-clouds  through  the  village  street, 
And  outward  o'er  the  meadows  cool  and  sweet ! 


HUNTING   OF  THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     181 

The  peasant  cowered  behind  his  garden  wall 
As  they  went  by ;  the  children  from  their  play 

Fled  in  blind  terror,  screaming  one  and  all 
As  the  wild  hurricane  of   chase  passed  on  by 
spray 

Of  falling  brook,  by  mead,  by  cot  and  hall, 
By  rock  and  hill,  by  wood  and  shore,  till  Day 

His  golden  hand  with  Night's  black  palm  did  join 

On  level  meads  beside  the  fishful  Boyne ! 

There  in  the  midmost  of  a  meadow  rose 
A  sacred  fane  to  Gods  whom  no  one  knew 

So  old  it  was,  and  there  like  virgin  snows 
A  flock  of  sheep  lay  nigh  it  with  the  dew 

Falling     on     their     white      fleeces,     while     with 

nose 
Half  buried  in  the  grass  and  violets  blue, 

And  twisted  horns  and  ears  of  silver  gray, 

The  Patriarch  of  the  flock  outside  them  lay. 


1 82  BLANID. 


On  him  the  wolf  sprang  swift  and  by  the  flank 
Caught  him  in  his  fell  jaws,  and  with  a  bound 

Carried  him  o'er  the  encircling  wall,  and  drank 
His   blood   within    the    fane,    where    man    nor 
hound 

Would  follow  him,  while  over  brake  and  bank 
Scattered  the  panting  flock  with  fear  astound  ; 

And  there  the  hunters  slept  or  watched  all  night, 

Till  the  fresh  morn  made  earth  and  ocean  bright. 

Then  with  a  howl  the  wolf  sprang  from  the  fane 
And  swept  the  flat  lands  with  immortal  speed, 

While,  close  behind,  the  hunt  rushed  on  again 
Like  the  fierce  whirlwind  that  mows  the  mead 

And  cornfield  with  its  wings  of  wrath  and  bane,  — 
Away,  away,  hound,  man,  and  foaming  steed, 

Through  Boyne,  by  Tara's  height,  by  grove  and 
dell, 

Till  the  hot  noon  passed  by  and  evening  fell ! 


HUNTING  OF  THE  WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     183 

On  the  far  border  of  the  Bregian  plain 

A  gorge  there  was  by  ancient  earthquakes  split 

Through  a  hill's  heart,  and  now  with  crimson  stain 
Its  rocks  and  savage  trees  were  all  alit 

By  the  descending  sun,  as  the  wild  train 

Rushed    through    its   darkening   mouth,   while, 
terror-smit, 

Before  them  rushed  twelve  kine  with  thundering  din 

Up  to  the  cliffs  that  shut  the  steep  gorge  in. 

There,  as  Cuhullin  neared  the  dizzy  height, 

And  the  fierce  herd  of  kine  turned  round,  his 
prey 

Sprang  on  a  brindled  bull,  and,  where  no  light 
Gleamed  thro'  a  cave  anigh  that  open  lay, 

Ramped  in  his  victim's  blood,  and,  as  the  bright 
Sweet  dawn  awoke,  rushed  out  and  made  his  way 

'Neath  javelin  cast  and  stroke  of  sword  and  flail 

From  the  deep  gorge  and  o'er  the  open  dale. 


1 84 


BLANID. 


Away,  away  through  ford  and  rocky  pass 

Two    long    days    more   they   sped,   till   as   the 
noon 

Of  the  fourth  day  died,  through  a  fragrant  mass 
Of  foliage  green  they  burst ;  and  there  the  boon 

Of  Aine  lay  before  them,  —  flowers  and  grass 
That   drank   from   light   of    sun   and   star  and 
moon 

Their  ever-during  loveliness,  for  there 

Beside  a  lake  outspread  a  garden  fair. 

And  by  the  lake  upon  a  knoll  there  stood 
A  lovely  house,  whose  front  with  traceries 

Was  beautified,  of  many-tinted  wood, 

Carven  in  rose,  and  the  white  flower  that  sees 

The  stars  from  out  the  pond,  with  brilliant-hued 
Fresh  blossoms  of  the  moorlands  and  the  leas 

And  gardens,  and  the  meadow's  grassy  floors, 

All  intertwined  round  windows,  walls,  and  doors. 


HUNTING   OF  THE  WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     185 

And  all  the  knoll  was  bloom,  the  garden  sweet 
All  bloom  and  light,  as  if  no  Winter  there 

Had  ever  shown  with  deadly  frowns  unmeet 
His  frosty  beard,  and  soft  the  perfumed  air 

Blew  from  the  lake,  as  with  destructive  feet 
The  wolf  now  rushed  o'er  lawn  and  flower-bed 
fair 

On  to  the  house,  'neath  shaft  and  javelin  whirr, — 

The    house    and    peaceful    home    of    Bras    Mac 
Lir! 

Now  Bras  Mac  Lir  a  priest  of  Aine  was, 
Well  versed  in  every  rite  and  mystery 

Of  the  bright  Goddess,  and  the  gentle  laws 
That  govern  love  and  the  flower  progeny 

Of  earth  and  sun,  and  how  kind  Nature  draws 
Her  sustenance  from  both,  and  blithe  was  he, 

With  his  fair  sons  and  daughters  and  his  spouse, 

Within  that  happy,  smiling,  sunlit  house. 


1 86  BLANID. 


In  the  bright  sunny  chamber  sat  they  now, 

Sire,  wife,  and  children,  while  through  bank  and 
bed 

Of  flowers  the  wolf  drave  as  the  sharpened  plough 
Through  the  soft  sward,  till,  his  eyes  flaming  red, 

He  burst  into  the  chamber,  every  brow 
Paling  at  his  fell  aspect,  as  with  head 

Savage  and  huge  and  grim  he  crouching  lay 

Glaring  on  them,  ready  to  spring  and  slay. 

Then  came  the  tread  of  armed  feet,  and  fast 

Through  the  door  strode  C  uhullin,  and  plunged  deep 

Into  the  wolf's  broad  breast  his  sword,  that  passed 
Through  heart  and  lung,  ere  the  fell  beast  could 
leap 

With  his  sharp  fangs  upon  him  ;  —  grim  and  vast 
Against  the  wall  he  lay,  a  gory  heap, 

No  more  to  ramp  and  raven  in  the  blood 

Of  the  sad  .folk  by  Bierna's  gloomy  flood ! 


HUNTING   OF  THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     187 

Now  Bras  Mac  Lir  before  his  household  cried: 
"  O  bright-clad  hero,  God-sent  here  to  save 

My  clear  ones  !  'mid  thy  targe's  circle  wide 
I  see  the  eagle  soaring  o'er  his  wave, 

I  see  the  Red  Branch,  royal  Eman's  pride  ! 
Then  thou  art  he  who  took  the  option  brave 

Of  the  short  life  and  glorious,  —  thou  art  he, 

Famed    through    the    islands   and    o'er    many   a 
sea  ! " 

Then  strode  the  giants  through  the  hall,  and  bore 
The  dread  Thing  from  the  chamber,  and  afar 

Amid  the  woods  buried  him  in  his  gore 
In  a  dark  spot  where  neither  light  of  star 

Nor   moon    could    reach    him,  nor   the    sunbeams 

pour 
Their  gold  upon  his  grave,  —  an  oaken  spar 

Driven  through  his  heart  into  the  bloody  clay, 

To  bind  him  in  his  darksome  home  alway. 


1 88  BLANID. 


Meanwhile  the  priest  cried,  "Why  thou  cam'st  I 
know 

Chasing  this  demon  Pest :  for  one  bright  morn 
Beside  our  crystal  lake  five  days  ago 

I  saw  a  train  bright  as  if  they  were  born 
In  fairy-land,  where  sweetest  blossoms  blow 

Upon  the  mead,  to  sound  of  flute  and  horn, 
And  harp  and  pipe  and  tympan,  resting  there 
Around  a  silk  pavilion  smooth  and  fair. 

"  And  at  its  door  upon  a  brazen  seat 
A  lady  sat,  fair  as  the  flower  that  blows 

In  summer  when  the  garden  is  complete 
Of  blossoms,  and  the  beautiful  white  rose 

Laughs  in  their  midst,  her  ladies  at  her  feet 

On   the    cool    grass,   and    like   the    pine    that 
grows 

Tallest  in  Tunnamara's  mountain  wood 

A  kingly  man  of  battle  by  them  stood. 


HUNTING   OF  THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     189 

"  And  Fame  had  come  before,  and  well  I  knew 
Great  Curoi,  and  fair  Blanid,  and  their  train, 

And  the  fond  promises  'tween  her  and  you, 
And  thy  misfortunes,  and  her  bosom's  pain, 

And  I  am  Aine's  priest,  and  through  the  blue 
Of   heaven   I'll   send  my  prayers   that   not   in 
vain 

Thou  comest  on  the  eve  of  her  bright  feast 

To  save  my  house  and  slay  this  monstrous  beast." 

Now  when  the  house  with  perfume  and  with  prayer 
Was  purified,  and  when  the  Night  divine 

With  all  her  diamond  lamps  through  th'  eastern 

air 
Upclomb,  and  bathed  earth  in  the  sacred  wine 

Of  slumber  and  forgetfulness  of  care, 

Cuhullin  slept,  and  through  the  fairy  mine 

Of  dream  he  wandered  and  in  glimpses  dim 

He  saw  his  loved  one  ever  weep  for  him  ! 


190 


BLANID. 


At  morn  he  woke  and  called  to  Aranie : 

"  Poet  and  friend  through  fair  or  adverse  tide, 

Arise  and  take  my  following  home  with  thee, 
Giants  and  hounds  and  all,  and  there  abide 

Till  my  return,  for  only  Loy  shall  be 

My  comrade  searching  for  my  promised  bride  ; 

For  I  have  dreamt  and  seen  her  lovely  eyes 

All  drowned  in  tears  for  me,  and  heard  her  sighs ! " 

Then  Loy  and  strong  Cuhullin  sought  their  steeds, 
And  left  the  priest  'mid  his  green  leaves  em 
bowered, 

And  to  the  south  all  day  o'er  streams  and  meads 
And  dales  and  mosses  and   great   moors   they 
scoured, 

And  at  the  silent  hour  when  the  sun  leads 

His  glorious  cohorts  'neath  the  waves,  devoured 

With  love  and  grief,  by  Loy  he  laid  him  down 

And  slept  till  Morning  donned  her  yellow  crown. 


HUNTING   OF  THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     191 

And  all  that  day  beneath  the  burning  sky 

Still  south  they  rode  swift  as  the  eagle's  wings, 

Till  at  the  eve  where  rose  the  mountains  high 
Like  a  tall  circle  of  old  Druid  kings 

Watching  the  closing  of  their  fire  God's  eye 
Over  the  crimson  waves,  by  Blama's  springs 

Cuhullin  and  swift  Loy  in  mournful  mood 

Lay  down  to  sleep  within  a  windless  wood. 

There  dreamt  he  a  strange  dream,  that  made  him 
see 

A  sight  whereat  his  heart  did  throbbing  run,  — 
A  lovely  stream  that  sang  melodiously, 

A  meadow  o'er  which  Aine  bright  had  spun 
Her  many-tinted  robe  of  brilliancy, 

And  on  its  verge  a  gay  pavilion 
Whose     lofty    poles    and     roof     'neath     sunset's 

gold 
Shone  with  rare  glory  over  mead  and  wold ! 


1 92  BLANID. 


And  by  its  door  he  saw  his  loved  one  sit 

With  her  bower-maids,  the  squires,  and  foster- 
dame, 

And  the  great  Knight,  while  in  a  rapturous  fit 
The  minstrel  took  his  harp  and  named  her  name 

In  a  blithe  song  that  caused  the  wood-birds  flit 
Out  from  their  homes,  and  for  a  space  made  tame 

The  shy  brown  rabbit  with  his  ears  in  air, 

And  the  red  fox  that  watched  him  from  his  lair ! 

But  nathless  all  the  sweetness  of  the  lay, 

He  saw  in  her  blue  eyes  but  thoughts  of  him, 

He  saw  her  memories  were  far  away 
In  Mana,  by  the  blue  lake's  bosky  rim, 

And  thought  he  heard  her  sigh,  —  low  murmuring 
say, 

"  Ah  me  !  ah  me !  ah  me  !  mine  eyes  are  dim 

With  weeping,  O  beloved  !  why  com'st  thou  not  ? 

Am  I,  thine  own,  so  very  soon  forgot  ? 


HUNTING   OF  THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA. 


193 


"  Alas  !  alas  !     In  joy  the  sun  may  rise, 
Beyond  the  mountain's  ridge  in  glory  set ; 

But  naught  of  day  or  night  can  glad  mine  eyes, 
Can  charm  my  soul  or  cure  my  heart's  regret 

Ah  me  !  ah  me  !  why  are  Love's  golden  ties 

Made    to    be    broken  ?     why,    when    once   we 
met, 

Are  we  two  chosen,  O  beloved,  to  be 

Parted  forever,  plunged  in  misery  ? " 

Then  daylight  died,  dark  shadows  gathered  down, 
And  slowly  faded  all  the  vision  bright, 

And  he  awoke.     Naught  saw  he  save  the  brown 
High    hill-tops    towering    through    the    ghostly 
night. 

Then  loud  he  called  on  Loy.     "  By  my  renown, 
O  valiant  friend,"  he  said,  "  I  've  seen  a  sight 

In  dream  that  soon  may  bring  a  fateful  hour 

To  me  and  yonder  Knight  of  Caher's  tower ! 
9  M 


BLANID. 


"  But  rest  we  while  we  may :  the  night  is  still, 
And  I  will  think  of  her  I  love  the  best." 

"  May  no  dark  dreams  of  blighting  grief  and  ill, 
O  master  mine,"  said  Loy,  "  disturb  thy  rest !  " 

So  slept  they  side  by  side,  till  th'  eastern  hill 
Waxed  red  with  morn,  and  then   through   his 
high  crest 

The  fresh  wind  played  as  swiftly  on  they  sped 

Down  the  lone  pathway  that  still  southward  led. 

Fair  smiled  the  morning  upon  Blama's  hilts, 
The  silver  mists  curled  up  from  moor  and  plain, 

Blithe  poured  from  myriads  of  joyous  bills 

The   wild-birds'    songs   and    mingled   with    the 
strain 

Of  murmuring  winds  and  woods  and  falling  rills, 
As  with  light  heart  the  lord  of  Beramain 

On  his  fresh  couch  of  fern-leaves  oped  his  eyes, 

Leapt  on  his  steed  and  looked  upon  his  prize. 


HUNTING   OF  THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     195 

And  as  he  looked  he  heard  a  trumpet  clear 

Sound  from  the  northern  wood,  and  then  there  rode 

Into  the  glade  a  Knight.     As  he  drew  near 
Gay  in  the  sun  his  gilded  armor  glowed ; 

Lordly  his  mien,  high  raised  his  glittering  spear, 
Caparisoned  in  blue  his  charger  strode 

O'er   the   green   grass,  and  arched  his  neck  and 
neighed, 

And  with  his  jangling  bridle  champed  and  played ! 

"  Dost  know  this  shield's  Red  Branch  and  Soaring 
Bird, 

High  prince  of  Beramain  ? "  the  stranger  said  ; 
And  at  the  voice  with  flush  of  anger  stirred 

Stern  Curoi  his  bold  question  answered, 
"Where'er  Fame's  trumpet  sounds,  or  Rumor's  heard, 

That  shield  is  known !  But  by  what  black  weird  led 
Comes  strong  Dun  Dalgan's  prince  across  my  path  ? " 
"I  come,"  Cuhullin  cried  in  rising  wrath, — 


196  BLANID. 


"  I  come  to  win  back  thy  misgotten  prize, 

Mine   own    beloved,  the   bloom-bright    Maid    of 
Man!" 

"  Thou  com'st  to  dye  this  grass  with  ruddy  dyes 
Of  thy  best  blood,"  cried  Curoi,  "  and  to  ban 

All  knighthood  with  thy  word  forsworn  !     Her  eyes 
Shall  see  the  fight,  so  let  him  take  who  can ! 

Lo  !  there  she  stands  with  her  fear-whitened  face  ; 

Look  thy  last  on  her  now,  and  take  thy  place  ! " 

Then  rose  the  rivalry  and  hate  of  years 

Hot  raging  in  their  hearts,  as  round  they  went 

To  sunder  for  the  red  race  of  the  spears, 

And   as   the   wind-blown    flame   burns    up    the 
bent 

On  a  brown  mountain's  back  that  autumn  sears, 
So  all  kind  thoughts  of  good  got  banishment 

From  their  hard  hearts  of  pride  where  revelled  free 

Infuriate  wrath  and  burning  jealousy. 


HUNTING   OF   THE    WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     19; 

Meanwhile,  as  one  who  on  a  wreck  doth  stand 
That   the   wide   wallowing   waves    toss   to   and 
fro, 

And  sees  the  saving  boat  put  from  the  land, 
Now  high,  now  in  the  sea-trough  sunken  low, 

Trembling  'tween  fear  and  hope,  each  lily  hand 
Pressed  o'er  her  heart  as  if  to  hide  her  woe, 

And  pale  as  one  who  had  forsaken  life, 

Young  Blanid  stood  to  watch  the  coming  strife ! 

Short  time  she  stood  and  looked  with  fear-dazed  eye, 
Till  each  strong  knight  his  lance  the  level  gave, 

And  like  the  thunder  cried  his  battle  cry, 

And  spurred  his  steed,  and  'cross  the  greensward 
drave, 

And  as  two  rounded  rocks  that  standing  high 
Each  side  a  deep  sheer  dell,  when  rain-storms  lave 

The  soft  sands  from  beneath  them,  downward  break 

And  meet,  and  with  loud  shock  the  firm  earth  shake, 


198 


DLANID. 


So  on  the  trembling  sward  in  mid  career 

The  heroes  met,  so  each  went  thundering  down, 

Fierce  horse  and  man  ;  but  yet  each  valiant  spear 
Had  done  its  work ;  stern  Curoi's  helmet  crown, 

Torn  off,  upon  the  grass  lay  glittering  near, 

And     through    Cuhullin's    shield   with    mighty 
stowne 

Curoi's  sharp  point  to  the  white  shoulder  went 

And  all  his  glittering  mail  with  blood  besprent. 

Then  sprang  they  to  their  feet  and  warily 

Looked  in  each  other's  eyes  with  look  of  hate, 

And  crossed  their  jarring  swords,  and  with  bent 

knee 
Fought  a  long  time  their  burning  ire  to  sate, 

Till  like  a  storm-uprooted  stately  tree 
Cuhullin  fell,  and  Curoi  stood  elate, 

Eying  him  as  the  hunter  eyes  the  boar 

That  righting  falls  but  yet  may  rise  once  more. 


HUNTING   OF  THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA. 


199 


"  I  '11  slay  thee  not !"  he  said,  "  but  this  strong  man 
Must  free  thee  from  the  Gods!"  —  then  caught 
and  raised 

His  mighty  spear,  and  then  a  two-loot  span 
Of  the  bright  brazen  blood-red  point  outblazed 

Beyond  a  follower's  back,  that  shivering,  wan, 
With  fear  looked  at  the  fight,  —  whose  eyes  death 
glazed 

Even  as  he  fell ;  —  the  varlet  stout  was  he 

Who  in  fair  Blanid's  train  came  o'er  the  sea. 

"  I  '11  slay  thee  not,  but  I  will  bind  thee  sore, 
And  rive  thee  of  thy  yellow  flowing  hair, 

That  in  the  press  of  knights  thou  'It  ride  no  more 
For  many  a  weary  moon  of  grief  and  care ! " 

Then  loud  he  called  a  squire,  who  with  a  store 
Of  hempen  coils  came  from  the  tent,  and  there 

With  many  a  knot  they  bound  the  luckless  knight, 

And  reft  him  of  his  yellow  locks  of  light. 


200  BLANID. 


Trembling  against  the  strong  pavilion  pole 

The  Bright  One  leant  and  watched  the  bitter  fray, 

Strong  hope  and  terror  struggling  in  her  soul 
As  the  quick  swords  clashed  in  their  murderous 
play ; 

And  when  she  saw  her  loved  one,  falling,  roll 
On  the  red  grass,  a  cry  of  wild  dismay 

Burst  from  her,  like  the  last  despairing  scream 

Of  one  who  sinks  amid  the  ocean  stream. 

Then  o'er  the  hoof-torn  sward  she  tottering  stept, 
And  by  his  side  fell  down  with  dreary  moan, 

And  pressed  her  face  to  his,  and  sobbed  and  wept 
In  a  low,  wailing  voice, — "Mine  own  !  mine  own  ! 

O  love!  O  love! "  she  cried,  "why  hast  thou  kept 
This     bloody   tryst?      Why   cam'st    thou    here 
alone  ? 

Alas  !  the  answer  in  thine  eyes  I  see ; 

Love  brought  thee  hither,  —  love  !  for  me,  for  me ! 


HUNTING   OF  THE   WOLF  OF  BIERNA.     2OI 

"  Why  have  we  loved  ?     Why  was  thy  true  heart  fed 
With  hopes  of  bliss  ?     O  dear  one  !  but  for  me 

'Mid  green  Ulidian  hills  thou  now  wouldst  tread, 
Chasing  the   dun  deer  through  the  wild-woods 
free! 

Now  a  poor  captive  liest  thou  here  instead, 

Bound  helpless  in  these  bonds  of  shame,  and  he, 

Thy  victor  in  the  contest,  mocks  thee  sore, 

But  in  thy  shame  I  love  thee  more  and  more ! 

"  Farewell !  farewell !  He  strikes  his  sounding  shield, 
But  Love  is  cunning,  and  Revenge  is  strong  ; 

Though  my  weak   hand  no   gleaming  sword   can 

wield, 
Red  blood  shall  flow  for  this  thy  shame  erelong  :  — 

Farewell !  farewell !     The  frosts  in  glade  and  field 
Will  nip  the  flowers,  ere  thou  thy  peers  among 

Shalt  ride  as  fits  a  knight  by  hill  or  shore, 

But  in  thy  shame  I  love  thee  more  and  more ! " 
9* 


202  BLANID. 


"O   loved  one,"    low  he  said,  "what   tongue  can 
tell 

My  heart's  despair,  mine  anguish,  and  my  pain 
To  meet  thee  thus  ?     Alas  !  farewell,  farewell ! 

Fate  smites  us  hard,  yet  we  may  meet  again !" 
One  moment  more,  and  in  her  jewelled  selle 

She  sat  perforce,  and  'mid  the  guardian  train 
Of  glimmering  spears,  oft  gazing  sadly  back, 
She  vanished  down  the  forest's  southern  track. 

Then  Loy  stepped  out  from  the  wild  tangled  wood, 
And  with  his  dagger  reft  the  bonds  away, 

And  deftly  from  the  shoulder  wiped  the  blood, 
With  healing  herbs  the  long  torn  wound  to  stay  ,- 

And  free  once  more  Dun  Dalgan's  hero  stood 
Shamefaced,  and  like  two  ghosts  that  shun  the 
day, 

Skulking  through  woods  and  paths  untrod  of  men, 

They  sought  Ben  Borka's  friendly  peaks  again. 


THE  MEETING   OF  THE  LOVERS. 


203 


THE   MEETING   OF   THE   LOVERS. 


TVJIGH  the  great,  craggy  mountains  that  each  eve, 
High  towering  through  the  calm  Momonian 

sky, 
In  golden  cones  and  pinnacles  receive 

The  last  red  glories  from  Day's  closing  eye, 
From  where  the  silver  streams  blithe  singing  leave 

Their  birthplaces  amid  the  summits  high, 
A  wilderness  slopes  downward  to  the  sea 
That  murmurs  on  its  gray  beach  joyously. 


204  DLANID. 


High  towering  o'er  the  tallest  pines  that  wave 
Their  green  heads  in  that  blooming  summer  wold. 

With  towers  and  battlements  and  fosses  brave, 
In  gray,  grim  state  stands  Curoi's  castle  old, 

Upon  whose  front  did  hoary  Time  engrave, 

Through  many  a   summer's    heat   and   winter's 
cold, 

His  battle  marks,  his  scars  of  wasting  frost, 

And  rainy  storms  from  the  wild  sea  waves  tost. 

There  is  a  high  and  lordly  chamber  there, 

A  broad  brown  hall  hung  with  quaint  draperies 

That  picture  ancient  Gods  of  sea  and  air, 

Heroes  of  might,  and  ships  before  the  breeze, 

And  sylvan  feasts,  and  merry  greenwoods  fair 
Where  wild  things  gambol   'neath  the  rustling 
trees 

And  hunters  range,  and  o'er  its  massive  doors 

Hang  wolf-brows  and  the  curved  teeth  of  boars. 


THE  MEETING   OF  THE  LOVERS. 


205 


And  round  about  its  great  cyclopean  walls 
Are  ranged  in  dusty  state  with  antlers  spread 

Skulls  of  the  primal  elk,  and  brazen  mauls 
And  shields  for  centuries  unburnished, 

Jackets  of  mail,  and  banners  black  as  palls 
That  bright  in  ages  gone  to  victory  led, 

And    glaives     and    spears     rusted    with    ancient 
gore, 

Crossed  now,  but  not  in  conflict  as  of  yore. 

• 

Now  on  them  steals  the  yellow  morning  light, 
These  trophies  of  great  heroes  dead  and  gone, 

And  the  huge  chamber  gradually  grows  bright 
And  a  grim  swarthy  smile  of  joy  puts  on  ; 

As  some  old  forest  nook  with  moss  bedight 
Seems  all  ablaze  with  splendor  when  the  sun 

Looks  through  its  guardian  tree-boles,  blithe,  and 
fills 

Its  depths  with  ruddy  light  from  orient  hills. 


206  BLANID. 


A  window  openeth  to  the.  sunny  bay 

And  the  faint  breezes  of  the  day  new  born 

Lightly  with  its  barbaric  draperies  play, 

And  from  their  sleep  the  twittering  eve-birds 
warn  ; 

And  there,  like  two  sweet  bunches  of  the  May 
That  bloom  in  light  on  Doona's  fairy  thorn, 

Stand  Blanid  and  young  Mora  motionless 

Gazing  o'er  bay  and  beach  and  wilderness. 

No  living  thing  she  sees  where'er  she  looks, 

Save  the  white  gull  its  wheeling  course  that  steers, 

Or  o'er  the  wood  the  morn-awakened  rooks, 

Or    sea-hawk's    wing    that    through    the    haze 
appears, 

Or  hermit  heron  from  far  inland  brooks 
On  one  long  leg  amid  the  shallow  meres 

Watching  the  scaly  sea  tribes,  as  he  stands 

Like  a  lone  spirit  of  the  silent  sands. 


THE  MEETING   OF  THE  LOVERS. 


207 


Then  wept  she  to  herself  awhile,  and  said 
Verses  from  love-lorn  poets  to  relieve 

Her  burning,  doubting* heart  with  hope  unfed, — 
The   more    she    said,   the    more    to    sigh    and 
grieve,  — 

And  took  her  lute,  with  music  sad  to  wed 
The  verses  that  some  ancient  bard  did  weave 

To  soothe  his  own  heart,  or  some  lover's  pain, 

And  thus  with  dove-like  voice  she  sang  her  strain :  — 

SONG. 

"  Deep  in  the  dell  where  ferns  are  growing 

A  fountain  springs, 
And  o'er  its  gentle  wavelets  flowing 
And  blossoms  in  the  sunshine  blowing 

The  sky-lark  sings  :  — 
Oh  !  how  he  sings  unto  his  mate 

Down  from  the  ether  blue, 
While  I  sit  here  all  desolate 

And  think,  beloved,  of  you  ! 


208  BLANID. 


"  O  happy  bird,  each  hour  returning 

Unto  its  nest 

Love's  rapture  in  its  bosom  burning  ! 
O  heart  of  mine,  forever  mourning 

In  sore  unrest ! 
How  dear  the  sky-lark's  happy  state 

Beside  its  lover  true, 
While  I,  alone,  all  desolate, 

Sit  here  and  weep  for  you  !  " 


Now  looked  she  on  the  ancient  tapestry 

Whereon  the  wood  was  pictured,  and  therein 

She  saw  a  little  bright-winged  bird  in  glee 
Singing  its  voiceless  carol  sweet  and  thin 

On  Monad's  Mount,  upon  the  sacred  Tree 

Of     Life,    and    then    she    thought    how    near 
akin 

Her  life  was  to  that  happy  bird's  one  time, 

And  sang,  grief-filled  again,  the  poet's  rhyme  :  — 


THE  MEETING   OF   THE  LOVERS. 


209 


SONG. 

"  The  linnet  on  his  leafy  Bough 

Sang  O  so  clear  and  sweet ! 
When  Love  my  comrade  was,  but  now 

That  Love  is  gone  on  winged  feet, 

No  more  to  give  my  heart  good-morrow, 
What  can  I  with  the  linnet's  song 
But  sadly  sit  and  listen  long, 

And  think  it  full  of  sorrow  ? 

"  The  throstle  at  the  opening  day 

Sang  O  so  sweet  and  clear  ! 
In  Love's  delightful  month  of  May ; 

But  now  that  Love  lies  cold  and  drear, 

What  can  my  heart  but  sadness  borrow  ? 
What  can  I  with  the  warbling  note 
The  throstle  pipes  from  his  sweet  throat 

But  think  it  full  of  sorrow  ? 

"  For  Love  in  life  was  all  I  had, 

Love  O  so  fresh  and  sweet ! 
To  make  my  lonely  bosom  glad, 

But  now,  ah  !  never  more  to  meet 

His  sunny  smile  and  dear  good-morrow, 
What  can  I  with  this  life  of  mine 
But  muse  upon  its  woes  and  pine, 

And  think  it  naught  but  sorrow? " 


2io  BLANID. 


And  still  she  weeps  and  still  cries  mournfully, — 
"  He  comes  not  to  console  my  wasting  pain! 

Alas  that  I  have  loved  !     Ah,  woe  is  me 

For  the  heart's  loneliness  and  longings  vain, 

And  promised  bliss  and  wordless  misery ! 

I  Ve   seen   brown    Autumn   end    his    lingering 
reign, 

And  hoary  Winter  his  white  mantle  spread 

O'er  the  sad  earth,  with  yearning  still  unfed. 

"  I  Ve  seen  blithe  Springtide  change  with  genial 
ray 

The  hills'  frore  pyramids  to  golden  green, 
But  watching  in  my  misery  day  by  day, 

No  sight  of  my  beloved  one  have  I  seen  ; 
I  've  ta'en  my  silken  broidery  to  allay, 

Weaving  its  shining  threads,  my  sorrows  keen, 
My  unavailing  hopes  and  bitter  fears, 
But  only  wet  its  woof  with  ceaseless  tears ! 


THE  MEETING   OF  THE  LOVERS.        2II 

"  And  now  gay  Summer  with  her  sunny  gleams 
In   royal   robes   moves    through    her   perfumed 
bowers, 

Her  heralds  wild-birds'  music,  songs  of  streams, 
And  the  bees'  tiny  trumpets  'mid  the  flowers : 

Alas,  alas,  that  I  have  dreamed  these  dreams  ! 
And  woe  is  me  for  love's  lost  honeyed  hours  ! 

For  while  joy  reigns  around  and  all  is  glad 

In  earth  and  heaven,  I  —  I  alone  am  sad  !  " 

Then  Mora  said,  "  The  hour  is  drawing  nigh, 
O  mistress,  for  the  ending  of  our  gloom, 

The  blissful,  happy  hour  when  you  and  I 

Shall  walk  through  fair  Dun  Dalgan's  groves  of 
bloom 

As  once  we  walked  in  Mana,  where  our  sky 
Was  bright  with  joys  that  never  now  illume 

Our  lives,  or  fill  with  gladness  and  delight 

Our  morning  and  our  noontide  and  our  night ! 


212  BLANID. 


"There  never  was  a  princess  yet  in  story, 
Captive  to  some  sea  rover  or  some  king, 

Some  giant  or  some  miser  old  and  hoary, 
That  did  not  win  at  last,  when,  sweetening 

Her  life  with  hope  of  love  and  all  the  glory 

And    gladness    that    her    hero's    deeds    would 
bring, 

She  saw  her  star  rise  from  the  clouds  malign 

Of  black  despair,  as  thou  wilt  now  see  thine ! 

"  For,  as  I  walked  beside  the  stream  that  sees 
At    the    hill's    foot    the   wild    things    at    their 
play 

Round  its  green  banks,  and  all  the  mysteries 
Of  the  blue  heavens,  the  eve  of  yesterday, 

I  saw  an  old  man  sitting  where  the  trees 

Bend  o'er  the  tumbling  water's  diamond  spray, 

With  a  small  harp,  a  long  begrizzled  beard, 

And  a  great  sword  that  made  me  half  afeard  ! 


THE  MEETING   OF  THE  LOVERS.         213 


"  And  as  I  stood  irresolute,  he  cast 

A  kindly  look  on  me  and  said,  '  Sit  here, 

O  brown-eyed  little  beauty,  for  thou  hast 

No     cause     to    shun     me    and     no    cause    to 
fear! 

Sit  by  this  tree  that  yet  will  be  the  mast 
Of  some  great  ship !     I  am  the  poet-seer 

Of  him  thy  mistress  loveth, — Aranie 

Of  strong  Dun  Dalgan  by  the  eastern  sea ! 

" '  Sit  by  me  here  and  learn  this  song  I  sing, 
And  sing  it  to  thy  mistress  ! '  —  and  he  took 

His  harp  and  with  deft  fingers  touched  its  string, 
And  in  strange  accents  like  the  voiceful  brook 

Three   times   he   sang   this    song,    and   made    me 

bring 
My  voice  in  tune  with  his,  till  every  nook 

Of  rock  and  wild-wood  with  the  echoes  rang  !  " 

And  then  she  took  the  golden  lute  and  sang :  — 


214 


BLANID. 


THE  MESSAGE. 

"  Is  the  spirit  of  gladness  dead  ? 

Are  there  naught  but  regrets  and  fears  ? 
Hath  hope  from  thy  bosom  fled 

That  thou  drownest  thine  eyes  with  tears  ? 
Wilt  thou  never,  O  loved  one  !  never 
Grief  and  thy  heart  dissever, 
And  gather  the  roses  red 

Of  joy  for  the  after  years? 

"  From  the  troubles  that  waste  and  mar 

Joy  and  delight  are  born, 
Reward  stands  oft  afar, 

Near  are  defeat  and  scorn  ; 
But  the  steadfast  soul  hath  in  it 
Power  that  can  work  and  win  it, 
The  comfort  of  hope's  bright  star 

In  the  glow  between  mirk  and  morn  ! 

"  True  love  hath  a  charmed  life, 

It  wakes  in  the  morning  air, 
It  walks  in  the  noonday  strife, 

It  lives  through  the  midnight's  care ; 
And  better  in  hope  receive  it, 
In  trusting  faith  believe  it, 
Than  die  by  Griefs  dread  knife 

Or  the  arrow  of  black  Despair  ! 


THE  MEETING   OF  THE  LOVERS.        215 

"  Then  up  he  stood,  and  went,  and  like  a  dream 
The  whole  thing  was  to  me ;  but  now  I'll  seek 

The  King's  bright  garden  where  the  fiery  beam 
Of     morn     doth    kiss     the     rose-bud's     ruddy 
cheek  ;  — 

Watch  from  the  window,  downward  by  the  stream, 
O'er  the  blithe  forest  and  the  hillside  bleak, 

The  strand,  the  moorland  and  the  glittering  mere, 

For  in  my  heart  I  know  thy  love  is  near ! " 

And  Blanid  looks.     From  round  a  looming  cape 
On  whose  high-towering  front  the  sea-birds  sit 

Guarding  their  windy  homes,  a  boat  doth  shape 
Its  course  and  cross  the  sunny  harbor  flit 

And  round  a  point  with  sea-caves  all  agape, 
Till  from  its  prow,  his  burnished  harness  lit 

By  the  glad  morning  sun,  with  spear  in  hand 

And    waving    plume,   a    knight    springs    to   the 
strand. 


2l6  BLANID. 


Where'er  Love's  flame  with  light  immortal  burns 
What  wondrous  instinct  in  the  bosom  lies  ! 

Ah !    thus  with  her,  the  Bloom-bright  One,  —  by 

turns 
Her  cheeks  grow  pale,  then  red  as  morning  skies, 

For  well  her  heart  foreknows  whose  footstep  spurns 
The  white  sands  far  beneath  her,  and  her  eyes 

Shine  with  unwonted  brightness  as  she  sees 

Cuhullin's  long  plume  waving  in  the  breeze  ! 

With  red  lips  parted  in  a  smile  more  sweet 
Than  roses  smile  in  their  first  virgin  bloom, 

She  turns,  her  golden-sandalled  winsome  feet 
Tread  with  light  step  across  the  lordly  room 

As  though  they  trod  on  air,  her  pulses  beat 

With    a    strange    rapture,    and     her     year    of 
gloom, 

Like  a  black  vision  nigh  the  morning  seen, 

Seems  all  forgot,  as  though  it  ne'er  had  been ! 


THE  MEETING   OF  THE  LOVERS.        217 

Fast  through  a  secret  postern  to  the  wood 
Out  glided  she,  and  down  a  pathway  sped 

That  wound  by  knolls  of  heather  red  as  blood, 
And   decked  with  fresh  flowers,  to   the  harbor 
led, 

Till  by  a  spreading  oak  she  sudden  stood 
Irresolute,  with  a  strange  fear  adread, 

And  sat  her  down  in  a  faint  musing  fit, 

And  plucked  a  little  flower  and  gazed  on  it. 

And  as  she  looked  upon  its  petals  bright 

She  thought  of  her  lost  home,  her  golden  bower 

In  Mana,  and  her  days  of  young  delight 

When    she  was  fresh  and   pure   as   that   sweet 
flower ; 

Then  sprang  she  up,  and  like  a  dove  aflight 
From  the  quick  forester's  keen  shaft  of  power, 

Adown  the  path  half  blind  with  tears  she  ran, 

Till  where  it  reached  the  beach's  sunny  span, 

10 


2l8  BLANID. 


Beyond  the  wood  shade,  in  the  open  ray 
She  saw  a  godlike  form  all  glittering 

With  loving  arms  outstretched  athwart  her  way  ; 
Then   felt   them   closely  round   her  press   and 
cling 

In  fond  embrace,  and  heard  a  kind  voice  say, 
"  O  love  !  O  love  !  be  this  thy  welcoming 

To  my  true  heart ! "  then  faded  wood  and  shore 

And  for  a  space  she  saw  and  heard  no  more ! 

She   woke ;    't  was   on    a   bank   where   o'er   them 
spread 

A  young  tree  'tween  them  and  the  joyous  skies, 
Upon  his  mail-clad  arm  her  shining  head 

Was  pillowed,  and  his  large  gray  kingly  eyes 
Looked  into  hers  with  love  unshadowed 

By  absence  or  the  burning  doubt  that  tries 
The  lover's  heart  with  sevenfold  fire :  then  she, 
Forgetting  for  a  time  her  misery, 


THE  MEETING   OF   THE  LOVERS. 


2I9 


Slowly  uprising,  round  his  strong  neck  flung 

Her   arms,   and    hid    'gainst    his    her    burning 
face, 

And  as  a  wild  vine  the  green  woods  among 
Shivers  wind-blown  against  its  tree,  a  space 

Around  him,  her  strong  refuge  now,  she  clung 
Trembling,  then  sudden  sprang  from  his  embrace 

And  "stood  before  him  half  af eard,  half  shy, 

With  drooping  form  and  sad  deploring  eye. 

And  "  O  beloved  ! "  she  cried,  "  think  not  of  me 
As  once,  when  in  the  heyday  of  my  fame 

I  won  thy  heart  in  virgin  purity,  — 

When  princes  from  earth's  farthest  confines  came 

To  court  my  smiles!  —  now,  now  what  dost  thou 
see 

Before  thee  ?    A  poor  wretch  of  blight  and  shame, 

. 
For  whom  the  Fates  a  dismal  doom  have  wove, 

His  blood-won  slave  despised,  his  thrall  of  love ! 


220  BLANID. 


"  Ah  !  would  this  heart  were  dead,  these  eyes  were 
blind, 

At  rest  from  ceaseless  torture  day  by  day !  — 
Torture  by  his  fell  presence  thrice  refined ; 

For  though  he  loves  in  his  rough  soldier  way, 
I  hate  him  tenfold  among  all  mankind, 

And,  hating,  must  dissemble  as  I  may, 
Must  cringe  and  lie,  for  I  am  brought  so  low 
That  pride  and  truth  are  conquered  by  my  woe ! 

"  Arise  then,  O  beloved  one !  and  depart, 
And  leave  me  to  the  woes  I  must  endure  ; 

I  am  not  worth  thy  faith  :  life  hath  its  smart, 
But  death  erelong  will  come  and  bring  the  cure ! " 

He  rose,  he  clasped  her  to  his  faithful  heart, 

And  fondly  cried,  "  To  me  thou  'rt  bright  and 
pure, 

O  love !  and  I  will  bear  thee  back  with  me, 

And  my  young  bride  high  honored  shalt  thou  be  !  " 


THE  MEETING   OF  THE  LOVERS.        22I 

Ah  !  well  for  them  that  Curoi  with  his  knights 
Is  on  the  southern  borders  of  his  land, 

Encamped  amid  the  lovely  pine-clad  heights 
That  rise  o'er  spreading  Carra's  silver  strand ! 

There  roams  he,  tasting  all  the  fresh  delights 
That  woodcraft  brings  when  summer  winds  are 
bland, 

Forgetting  his  fair  prize  and  her  sad  lot, 

And  that  wronged  love  revengeful  sleepath  not. 

Again  they  sat  beneath  the  leafy  tree, 

On    the    green    flowery  bank,   gaze    answering 

gaze, 
And  word  fond  word,  in  love's  fresh  ecstasy, 

As  once  before  in  those  lost  happy  days 
Far,  far  away  in  Mana  of  the  Sea. 

Thus  sat  they  till  the  hot  noon's  torrid  rays 
Smote  sea  and  wood,  then  down  the  pathway  came 
Unto  their  trysting-place  the  foster-dame. 


222  BLANID. 


"  And  art  thou  come  ?  "  she  cried,  "  O  valiant  one  ! 

Hath   love  o'er  thy  true  heart  such   wondrous 

power, 
That  thou  in  blind  desire  must  heedless  run 

Into  the  lion's  jaws  for  this  poor  flower? 
Alas  that  ever  shone  the  mocking  sun 

Upon  our  bootless  rage !     This  very  hour 
A  courier  crossed  the  bridge  on  courser  light 
To  tell  of  bis  great  lord's  return  to-night. 

"Arise  then  and  depart!     His  purpose  dread 
I  know  not,  yet  I  know  that  naught  remains 

For  thee  but  instant  flight,  else  on  her  head 
Will  fall  his  anger,  and  renewed  pains 

Will    rive    our    hearts,    and    thou    on     dungeon 

bed 
Shalt  lie  beneath  the  moat  in  captive  chains 

Till  into  black  despair  thy  warm  heart  sink, 

Or  the  red  block  thy  youthful  blood  shall  drink. 


THE  MEETING   OF  THE  LOVERS. 


223 


"  Depart !  depart !     The  hour  will  yet  draw  near 
For  love  and  for  thy  vengeance  long  delayed : 

The  Summer  flowers  bloom  bright  by  stream  and 

mere 

And  wood  and  crag,  but  thou  must  let  them 
fade 

Thy  vengeance  still  unwon ;  then  Autumn  sere 
Shall  come,  but  when  upon  the  moaning  glade 

Slain  by  the  winds  of  Winter  he  expires 

'Mid  Samhain's  feast  and  sacrificial  fires, 

"  Then  do  thou  come,  and  with  thy  bravest  band 
Valiant  and  swift  and  sure,  and  here  abide 

Within  this  secret  wood.     Then  Curoi's  sand 
Of  life  shall  run  its  last,  for  I  will  guide 

To  vengeance  sure  and  stern  thine  armed  hand ! 
Then  in  his  hour  of  triumph  and  of  pride 

We  '11  slay  him  as  the  forest  dwellers  slay 

The  wolf  that  bears  their  best-loved  child  away ! 


224  BLANID. 


"  And  thou,  poor  child  of  many  sorrows,  lay 
Thy  face  against  this  withered  breast  of  mine 

To  shut  from  thy  sad  eyes  the  woful  ray 

That  lights  his  parting  footsteps  !     Gaily  shine 

O'er  sea  and  hill  the  beams  of  middle  day, 

And   ye   must   part,    and    thou   must   now   un 
twine 

Thine  arms  from  him,  O  maid!"  —  and  shudder- 
ingly, 

Moaning  the  while  in  her  great  agony, 

Fair  Blanid  saw  him  go.     Then  as  a  wreath 
Of  snow  at  Springtide  in  the  mountain  pass 

Slides  from  its  cleft  to  the  flat  sward  beneath, 
So  dropt  she  down  upon  the  woodland  grass 

All  motionless,  as  though  she  ne'er  would  breathe 
Earth's  air  again.     Too  soon,  too  soon,  alas  ! 

She  woke  to  weep,  then  rose  and  weeping  still 

With  the  old  foster-dame  went  up  the  hill ! 


THE  MEETING   OF  THE  LOVERS. 


225 


Meanwhile  Cuhullin  plied  the  rapid  oar 

Of  the  light  boat  with  gladsome  heart  and  fond 

Across  the  harbor,  round  the  sea-cape  hoar, 
And  into  a  lone  wood-locked  cove  beyond, 

Where  sprang  he  lightly  to  the  wave-ribbed  shore 
And    up    the  wild-wood    went,    Love's    golden 
wand 

Touching  his  heart  with  its  sweet  sorcery, 

Till  won  he  where  a  stream  danced  fresh  and  free 

From  ledge  to  ledge  into  a  glade  of  green  : 
And  there  Loy  waited,  there  the  twain  bestrode 

Their   steeds,   and   like   a  dream   each    changing 

scene 
Seemed  hurrying  by  as  in  hot  haste  they  rode 

Unto  the  North,  till,  as  with  ray  serene 
Upon  the  mountain-tops  the  sunset  glowed, 

They  laid  them  down  and  slept,  and  morn  again 

Found  them  fast  speeding  o'er  the  perilous  plain. 

10*  O 


226  BLANID. 


THE     SLAYING    OF    CUROI     AND    THE 
REVENGE    OF    HIS    MINSTREL. 


REEN  are  the  hills  of  early  summer-time, 
And  lingering  long  their  emerald  glories  fade, 
When  Autumn  with  slow  steps  begins  to  climb 
Their   breezy   fronts     from    the    brown    forest 

shade, 

Nipping  the  grass  and  flowers  with  frosty  rime, 
Till  long-drawn  glen  and  bosky  upland  glade, 
Broad  shadowy  moor  and  skyey  mountain  spire, 
Put  on  their  heathery  robes  of  purple  fire. 


THE  SLAYING   OF  CUROI.  227 

And  slowly  as  it  comes,  it  fades  away, 
The  glory  of  the  heather's  purple  glow, 

Like  human  grandeur  born  but  to  decay 

As    the    long    years     glide    on    with    footsteps 
slow  ;  — 

The  woods  are  bare,  the  hills  are  cold  and  gray, 
The  cheerless  morns  no  genial  heat  bestow  ; 

And  thus  the  earth  changed  with  the  changing  sun 

Till  Winter  and  the  Samhain  feast  came  on. 

One  day,  before  the  feast,  the  old  dame  sat 
By  the  bower  window  of  her  foster  child, 

And  looked  upon  the  northern  moorland  flat, 
And  saw  a  horseman  spurring  from  the  wild, 

And    laughed,   and    rubbed    her   withered    hands 

thereat, 
And  on  her  foster  daughter  looked  and  smiled 

A  crafty  smile,  exulting  as  she  said, 

"  Behold  the  first  crumb  of  his  bitter  bread ! 


228  BLANID. 


"  I  was  not  born  yesterday.     I  know 

The  wiles  of  courts,  the  unstable  hearts  of  men, 
And  this  sweet  tongue  some  little  seed  did  sow 

Within  these  walls,  that  have  sprung  up  again 
In  fruit  whose  baleful  taste  is  war  and  woe. 

See   the   good    horseman     how   he   scours    the 

glen! 

How  up  the  stony  path  his  harness  rings  ! 
Black  with  fell  wrath  be  all  the  news  he  brings ! " 

With  clash  and   clang  the  horseman   passed  the 
gate, 

With  tottering  steps  he  gained  the  lofty  hall, 
And  to  the  knights  assembled  'gan  relate 

How  Roving  Angus  of  the  Iron  Maul 
Fell  upon  Lora,  wreaking  his  fierce  hate 

On  kith  and  kin  of  Ademar  the  Tall, 
The  bravest  knight  that  e'er  in  battle  tide 
Put  lance  in  rest  by  noble  Curoi's  side. 


THE  SLAYING   OF  CUROL 


229 


And  soon  the  northern  causeway  gleamed  with  steel, 
As  Ademar  went  off  with  all  his  power, 

And  as  the  sun  with  golden  chariot-wheel 

Had  sought  'neath  crimson  clouds  his  western 
bower, 

With  dying  steed  that  scarce  the  spur  could  feel, 
Another  courier  came  from  Barra's  tower 

To  tell  unto  the  knights  his  tale  forlorn 

How  Talc  the  Pirate  sacked  it  on  that  morn. 

Next  day  a  messenger  from  Brann  the  Red 
With  gory  spur  came  o'er  the  eastern  moors 

To  tell  them  how  the  Hold  of  Dunigled 

Was     fast     besieged     by     rascal     slaves    and 
boors, 

How  scarce  its  ancient  towers  in  conflict  dread 
Their  ruffian  war  another  day  endures, 

And  asking  for  a  gallant  knightly  band 

With  conquering  spears  to  quell  their  bloody  hand. 


230 


BLANID. 


And  thus  the  couriers  came  ;  thus  forth  they  went, 
The  knights  and  men,  to  the  far  border  lands, 

And  as  an  evil  sprite  from  hell  upsent 

The   old   dame   glided   round   and   rubbed   her 
hands, 

And  smiled  and  leered  in  her  false  merriment, 
And  brewed  her  cruel  plot,  till  of  his  bands 

Remained  with  Curoi  only  ten  good  spears 

When  Samhain's  sun  rose  o'er  the  eastern  meres. 

An  hour  before  the  fires  were  all  alight 

By  stead  and  town,  temple,  and  village  green, 

In  worship  of  the  mild  Queen  of  the  night, 
The  old  dame  stole  adown  the  forest  screen, 

Till  by  a  lonely  brook  that  took  its  flight 

Murmuring   two    tangled    banks   of    wood    be 
tween, 

She  found  Dun  Dalgan's  lord  in  ambush  hid 

With  many  a  mail-clad  man  the  copse  amid. 


THE  SLAYING   OF   CUROI.  231 

"  And  O  them  faithful  knight !  "  she  whispered  low, 
"  The  hour  is  nigh  thine  own  beloved  to  save ; 

Watch  well  this  sounding  stream,  and  when  the  glow 
Thou  mark'st  of  white  swan's  feathers    on  its 
wave 

That  I  as  signal  for  the  deed  shall  throw 
Into  its  bed  above,  then  bare  thy  glaive 

And  with  thy  warriors  storm  the  hold,  and  slay 

And  work  the  bitter  vengeance  as  ye  may !  " 

Meanwhile,  as  evening  o'er  the  valleys  threw 
Its  mantle  gray,  within  his  lordly  hall 

Sat  the  great  knight  amidst  a  merry  crew 
Of  squires  and  pages,  gladsome  one  and  all ; 

There  some  with  eyes  intent  the  hazard  drew, 
Some  the  white  dice  upon  the  board  let  fall, 

Some  quaffed  the  golden  mead,  some  moved  the 
chess, 

Laughing  the  while  in  their  full  happiness. 


232  BLANID. 


Stately  he  sat,  a  smile  on  his  brown  face, 
As  he  looked  round  upon  the  revelry, 

His     scarlet     robe     thrown     back     with     kingly 

grace, 
His  saffron  tunic  flowing  to  his  knee, 

With  golden  belt  that  showed  the  cunning  trace 
In  gems  of  monsters  of  the  land  and  sea, 

With  gorget  glittering,  and  dark  locks  bare 

Silvered  a  little  by  the  helmet's  wear. 

In  his  right  hand  he  raised  a  sparkling  bowl, 
And    "  Fill,"    he    said,   "  O   merry    friends    of 
mine, 

And  drink  unto  the  mistress  of  my  soul, 
Blanid,  the  peerless  one,  the  dame  divine  ! 

And  though  she  weep  betimes,  as  seasons  roll, 
May  she  wax  glad  again,  and  may  she  shine 

In  her  bright  beauty  fresh  as  roses  red 

That  deck  the  garden  bowers  when  Winter  's  dead !  " 


THE  SLAYING   OF  CUROT.  233 

And  she  within  her  bower  lay  hid,  each  sound 
From  the  far  banquet-hall  that  reached  her  ear 

Making     her     heart    with     new-fledged     terrors 

bound  ; 
While  the  old  foster-dame  went  far  and  near 

From  door  to  door  the  joyous  castle  round, 
And  oft  into  the  banquet-hall  would  peer, 

Oft  to  the  postern  gate  would  secret  go, 

Watching  her  time  the  signal  white  to  throw. 

And  still  within  the  darksome  forest  glen 

Cuhullin  lay,  and  watched  the  darkness  come, 

And  all  was  silent  round,  save  now  and  then 

From    the    bright   castle   doors   would   float   a 
hum 

Of  merriment,  or  from  the  moory  fen 

The  curlew's  whistle  or  the  bittern's  drum 

Would  sound  inconstant,  till  a  breeze  blew  chill, 

And  the  white  moon  clomb  o'er  the  eastern  hill. 


234 


BLANID. 


Then  all  at  once  the  Samhain  fires  outblazed 

To  welcome  night's  mild    Empress,  bright  and 
high 

On  the  round-shouldered  mountains  some  upraised, 
Some  low  adown  flaring  against  the  sky ; 

But  noting  naught  of  them,  Cuhullin  gazed 
Into  the  darksome  waters  hurrying  by, 

Starting  at  every  leaf  and  moonlight  gleam 

That  whirled  and  flashed  upon  the  lonely  stream. 

At  length,  as  higher  rose  the  moon's  pale  rays 
Over  the  withered  trees,  and  on  the  tide 

Flickered  in  flakes  of  snowy  pearl,  his  gaze 

Caught  the  first  gleaming  of  the  white  swan's 
pride 

Floating  adown ;  and  as  a  wolf  that  stays 
All  night  within  his  lair,  and  long  has  eyed 

Its  woodland  prey  and  sees  it  near,  he  sprang 

Unto  his  feet,  and  while  with  mighty  clang 


THE  SLAYING   OF  CUROL  235 

Of  mail-jacks  and  of  clattering  spears,  his  kin 
Followed  him,  'cross  the  stream  he  sprang,  and 
fast 

Out  from  the  shadow  of  the  dark  ravine 

And  up  the  moonlit  hill-sides  fierce  they  passed 

Unto  the  castle  gate  with  furious  din, 

And  fell  on  the  scant  guard,  who  all  aghast 

Stood  at  the  porch  and  met  the  bloody  shock 

Like  withered  fern  before  the  falling  rock. 

And  then,  as  ocean's  tide,  wild  wave  on  wave, 
Driven  before  the  storm,  with  deafening  roar, 

Hurry,  and  turmoil  fills  some  yawning  cave 

Tossing  its  spray  on  high,  so  through  the  door, 

In  one  bewildering  whirl  of  plume  and  glaive, 
They  filled  the  hall,  and  with  dread  shouts  down 
bore 

The  revellers'  faint  resistance,  all  save  him 

Who  now  stood  looking  on  them  cold  and  grim. 


236  BLANID. 


Against  the  wall  he  stood,  his  eagle  eye 
Glancing  around  upon  the  bloody  wrack 

Seeking  his  foe,  then  reached  his  hand  on  high 
And  seized  a  brazen  maul,  and  to  the  attack 

Like  the  red  lightning-bolt  that  cleaves  the  sky 
He  sprang,  and,  for  a  moment's  space,  beat  back 

The  hedge  of   spears,    till,   drenched  with  hostile 
blood, 

He  gained  the  spot  where  fierce  Cuhullin  stood. 

There  from  a  soldier's  arm  he  tore  the  targe 

And  poised  it  o'er  his  breast  with  warm  blood 
wet, 

And  with  tall  knee  advanced  looked  o'er  its  marge 
Into  his  foeman's  eyes,  and,  fearless  yet, 

With  a  great  bound  leapt  forward  to  the  charge, 
Shouting  his  cry  of  war,  but  ere  they  met, 

Pierced  by  a  score  of  spears  he  fell,  the  tide 

Of  life  fast  welling  from  his  riven  side. 


THE  SLAYING   OF  CUROL 


237 


Then  hard  a  jackman  smote  him  as  he  bled, 
But  as  the  spear-but  whirled  on  high  again, 

Cuhullin  sheered  away  the  caitiff's  head, 

And    kneeling    down   in    strange   remorse  and 
pain 

By  the  great  knight,  "  O  man  of  men  ! "  he  said, 
"  I  'd  give  my  life  and  all  my  broad  domain 

To  see  thee  as  thou  wert,  my  brother  true 

In  camp  and  court  ere  strife  between  us  grew ! " 

Once  moved  his  lips  with  words  he  could  not  say, 
Once  rolled  his  eyes  his  ruined  hall  around, 

And  he  was  dead !    Upon  the  hill-side  gray, 

High   o'er  the  mournful  beach,  they  made  his 
mound  ; 

And  as  the  mountain  tops  'neath  morning's  ray 
Threw  off  their  circling  vapors,  northward  bound, 

Cuhullin  rode  along  the  woodlands  bare 

With  his  stout  followers  and  his  lady  fair. 


238  BLANID. 


Upon  the  new-raised  mound  all  drearily 
Sat  Curoi's  minstrel  brooding  in  his  woe, 

One  day  that  upward  moaning  from  the  sea 

Through  the  sere  wood  the  wind  began  to  blow  : 

Naught   recked   he   of   the  wild  wind's    wrath   or 

glee, 
For  of  the  mighty  man  who  lay  below 

Sleeping  for  aye  the  thoughts  would  constant  rise 

And  swell  his  heart  and  blind  with  tears  his  eyes. 

At  length  he  took  his  harp,  and,  low  at  first, 
Woke  its  thin  voice  in  mournful  preludings  ; 

Then  high  and  clear  a  wailing  strain  outburst 
'Neath   his    light    fingers    from     the   trembling 
strings  ; 

Then  frowning  with  black  brows  like  one  athirst 
For  blood  and  for  the  joy  that  vengeance  brings, 

He  left  the  mound,  strode  down  the  hill-side  gray, 

And  to  the  northward  took  his  weary  way. 


REVENGE  OF  THE  MINSTREL. 


239 


And  many  a  sight  he  saw  by  dale  and  down, 

Wandering  till  Winter's  snows  began  to  fade 
From  the  rejoicing  hills,  and  his  renown 

Preceded  him,  and  wheresoe'er  he  strayed 
The  people  flocked  from  village,  tower,  and  town 

To  hear  the  wondrous  music  that  he  made 
On  his  weird  harp,  —  a  thing  from  heaven  down- 
sent, — 

\ 

And  crowned  him  first  of  bards  where'er  he  went ! 

The  village  urchin  and  the  maiden  shy, 

The  matron  staid,  the  soldier  brave  and  young, 

The  aged  carle,  stood  each  with  tearful  eye 

And    wept    betimes    at    the    sad    songs     he 
sung; 

And  thus  he  roamed  till  day  by  day  the  sky 
Grew  warmer,  and  the  budding  blossoms  hung 

From  the  laburnum  and  the  lilac  pale, 

And  the  young  grass  in  emerald  robed  the  vale. 


240  BLANID. 


And  day  by  day,  as  still  he  wandered  on 

From  side  to  side,  but  always  north,  the  hills 

Grew  brighter,  o'er  the  breezy  moorlands  dun 
The  young  lambs  gambolled,  and   the  streams 
and  rills 

Sang  songs  of  gladness,  for  the  amorous  sun 
Kissed  them  not  vainly,  till  with  gentle  thrills 

The  warm  winds  played  amidst  the  opening  bowers, 

And  all  the  meads  were  gay  with  Springtide  flowers. 

And   Summer  came ;    the   corn-stalks   marshalled 
stood 

O'er  the  bright  fields  in  all  their  greenery, 
The  foxglove's  glorious  crimson  edged  the  wood, 

The  wild  rose  laughed,  the  gleaming  apple-tree 
Showered  down  its  blossoms  on  the  linnet's  brood 

That  chirped  amid  its  branches  ;  glad  and  free 
All  things  o'er  Nature's  throbbing  bosom  glowed, 
Save  the  fierce  minstrel  on  his  weary  road. 


REVENGE   OF   THE  MINSTREL. 


241 


And  as  he  wandered  on,  one  sunny  day, 

Where   four    roads    crossed   within   a   beechen 
screen 

He  saw  through  the  thin  branches  far  away 
The  glint  of  mail-rings  and  the  brassy  sheen 

Of  targets  and  the  glow  of  helmets  gay, 
Of  scarlet  mantles  and  of  tunics  green, 

And  dim  beneath  the  sun-enlivened  trees 

A  country  multitude  surrounding  these. 

And  as  with  weary  steps  he  drew  anigh, 
Four  trumpeters  on  silver  trumpets  played 

A  melody  with  long-drawn  notes  and  high, 
Then  a  great  cymbal-clash  wild  clamor  made  ; 

And  then  a  stately  man  with  haughty  eye, 

The    king's     own     herald,     in      bright    robes 
arrayed, 

Upraised  his  truncheon  with  red  gold  aflame, 

And  to  the  wondering  people  'gan  proclaim  :  — 
ii  p 


242 


BLAXID. 


"  O  men !  O  men !  O  men  !  pale  Death  is  strong 
And  life  is  weak ;  and,  like  the  withered  grass, 

Before  his  dreadful  scythe  the  lord  of  song, 

The  King's  own  bard,  to  Death's  ditn  realm  did 
pass 

Not  long  ago  ;  and  now  all  things  are  wrong 
With  the  great  King,  for,  like  false-sounding  brass, 

Or  jarring  notes  of  a  cracked  virginal, 

The  next  bard's  songs  upon  his  sad  ears  fall ! 

"And  'tis  for  this  the  silver  trumpets  blow, 
For  this  the  brazen  cymbals  clash  and  ring, 

And  't  is  for  this  I  wander  to  and  fro,  — 

To  find  a  bard  will  please  my  lord  the  King ; 

And  I  have  journeyed  far,  and  yet  must  go 
Still  farther,  till  to  Eman's  halls  I  bring 

Some  wondrous  bard,  some  magic-fingered  one, 

Will   please   my   lord  the    King   like   him   that's 
gone  ! " 


REVENGE   OF  THE  MINSTREL. 


243 


Then  sat  the  dust-soiled  minstrel  sullen  down, 
Unslung  his  harp  and  bared  its  strings  of  gold 

Before  them  all,  and,  with  a  troubled  frown, 
Played  a  light-tinkling  prelude,  and,  behold ! 

Strange  bliss  the  listeners'  cares  began  to  drown  ; 
Thenvoiceand  harp-notes, mingled  sweet,  uprolled 

In  a  great  soul-entrancing  wondrous  lay 

That    stole    the    hearts    from   out    their    breasts 
straightway ! 

And  when  the  lay  was  done,  a  glad  thrill  ran 

Through  the  great  crowd,  and  high  before  them  all 

The  herald  spoke:   "O  sweet-tongued,  marvellous 

man, 
Blest  be  the  day  I  see  thee !    Bitter  gall 

Seems  the  best  music  that  since  life  began 
I  've  heard  near  thine.     Never,  in  cot  or  hall, 

Heard  serf,  or  lord,  or  lady,  one  like  thee  ! 

Arise,  and  come  to  the  King's  house  with  me ! " 


244  BLANID. 


And  so  it  fell  the  minstrel  must  abide 
In  the  King's  house,  in  gay  apparel  clad, 

And  many  a  merry  lay  he  sang  belied 

His    inward    thoughts,    for    a    sore    heart    he 
had. 

Then  came  the  Beltain  feast,  when  all  the  pride 
Of  Ulad's  nobles  came  with  bosoms  glad 

From  many  a  moated  town  to  Eman's  hall 

At  the  king's  word  to  hold  high  festival. 

And  there  Cuhullin  came  ;  and  with  him  came 
Bright  Blanid,  and  love's  boundless  happiness 

Had  blotted  from  her  mind  the  very  name 
And  memory  of  the  bard,  yet  none  the  less 

The  dark  man  with  his  furtive  eyes  of  flame 

Eyed  her  with  rage  his  soul  could  scarce  suppress, 

As  through    the    gorgeous    throng  each  day  she 
moved 

In  peerless  beauty  loving  and  beloved. 


REVENGE   OF  THE  MINSTREL.  245 

Three  days  the  feast  went  on  ;  on  the  fourth  morn 
The   glad  hawks  shook  their  wings  and   silver 
bells 

In  the  King's  mews,  the  hounds,  that  all  forlorn 
In  kennel  slept,  now  woke  with  joyous  yells 

As  the  King's  huntsman  wound  his  echoing  horn  ; 
And  soon  both  King  and  court  amid  the  dells 

With  hawk  and  hound  went  out  to  hunt  the  deer 

And  start  the  heron  gray  by  brook  and  mere. 

Three  days  they  hunted  ;  on  the  third  the  chase 
Led  them  unto  the  high  top  of  a  hill, 

And  there  upon  a  breezy  sunlit  space 

They  reined  their  steeds  ;  before  them  a  bright  rill 

Ran  through  a  ferny  gorge  down  th'  eastern  face 
Of  a  steep  slope  in  glittering  falls,  until 

It  reached  a  dale,  where  'neath  man's  peaceful  reign 

Spread  homesteads,  gardens,  groves,  and  fields  of 
grain. 


246  BLANID. 


Beyond  the  dale's  rich  verge,  embellished 
By  many  a  stately  tree,  a  forest  grew, 

Then  a  broad  gleaming  moorland  far  outspread, 
Wrapped    in    light    azure    haze,    then    to   the 
view 

A  cape  raised  high  its  wave-impending  head, 
Then  shimmering  golden-green  and  silvery  blue, 

Like  a  wide  mead  of  Asphodel,  the  sea 

Stretched  to  the  heavens  its  grand  immensity. 

Adown  the  slope  they  went,  across  the  plain 

And  thro'  the  wood  and  up  the  cape's  proud  neck 

To  the  flat  top,  where  the  soft  summer  rain 

Brought  from  the  grass  wild-flowers   in  many  a 
speck. 

There  from  their  steeds  they  lighted,  and  full  fain 
The  squires  and  pages  at  the  blithe  King's  beck 

Went  to  and  fro,  in  merry  mood,  while  fast 

They  pitched  the  tents  and  spread  the  gay  repast. 


REVENGE  OF  THE  MINSTREL.          247 

And  as  they  sat,  in  glorious  symphony 
The  sea  made  music,  and  the  summer  air 

Played  in  the  branches  of  each  wildwood  tree 
That  round  the  cape's  flat  top  grew  here  and  there ; 

The  heavens  shone  bright,  and  midst  that  company 
The  mead  went  round  in  jewelled  goblets  rare, 

The  wine-cup  sparkled,  eyes  met  loving  eyes, 

And   young   hearts   throbbed,   and    laughter    gay 
did  rise. 

Then  some  to  cull  the  mountain  flowers  would  go, 
Some  danced  upon  the  sward,  within  the  tent 

Some  hid  them  from  the  noontide  sultry  glpw, 
Some  plied  the  wine-cup  in  light  merriment ; 

And   she,  the   Bloom-bright    One,  now  wandered 

slow 
Down  to  the  cape's  impending  verge,  and  leant 

Against  an  aged  thorn  that  drooping  stood 

Through  many  a  changing  year  o'er  ocean's  flood. 


248 


BLANID. 


Pensive  she  stood  against  the  mossy  stem 

In  her  full  joy,  the  roses  of  life's  May 
Tingeing    her    cheeks    once   more,   and   many  a 

gem 

Sparkling  within  her  tresses  golden  gay ;  — 
Over  the  waves  she  leant,  and  looked  on  them 

As  one  who  on  a  village  green  the  play 
Of  children  sees,  and  smiles  as  memory 
Brings  back  some  glimpse  of  childhood  and  its  glee. 

Anigh  her  sat  the  bard,  his  dark  head  bare, 

His  wild  keen  eyes  with  a  strange  brightness 
filled, 

The  sea-breeze  blowing  through  his  curling  hair, 
The  sunshine  gleaming  as  if  but  to  gild 

His  harp-frame  richly  wrought  ;  and  smiling  there 
Anon  the  King  came  down,  then  sweetly  thrilled 

The  music,  and  the  courtiers  gathered  round 

To  hear  the  wondrous  bard  his  harp-strings  sound. 


REVENGE   OF   THE  MINSTREL. 


249 


Then  soft  he  touched  the  strings   and  made  them 
speak 

In  low  love  music,  whose  delightful  tone 
Deepened  the  roses  red  on  Blanid's  cheek, 

Now  like  high  trumpets  on  a  war-field  blown 
He  clashed  the  wires  and  sang,  then  low  and  weak 

In  dying  sobs  the  melody  did  moan, 
Then  voice  and  strings  broke  forth  in  one  wild  wail 
Of  woe,  that  up  the  bright  heaven  seemed  to  sail ! 

Up  sprang  he  then,  his  eyes  with  rage  alight, 
And  dashed  his  harp  down  with  a  crashing  clang, 

And   clutched    the  Bright  One,  and   ere   lord    or 

knight 
Could  rush  between  them,  o'er  the  cliff  he  sprang, 

Clutching  her  closely  still !     Along  the  height 
His  last  weird  shout  of  vengeance  lessening  rang, 

As  far  beneath  amid  the  breakers'  roar 

They  disappeared,  and  ne'er  were  looked  on  more ! 

THE   END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


)EC11  1974  1 


CW- 


\9'76 


U1N 


LD  21-95m-ll,'50(2K 


938451 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


